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ROCKTON 


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£?ior|j of Spring-tints IHrrreatiDns. 


BY KEL SNOW, ES0'. 


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CINCINNATI : 

CRANSTON & STOWE. 
NEW YORK : 

HUNT & EATON. 




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Copyright 

By CRANSTON & STOWE, 

A 

1891 . 



















To all those who read it, 
and to all those he wishes would read it, 
®Ijt0 Book m Bebtrafeb 

BY 


V 


ITS AUTHOR. 





go^te^ts. 


CHAPTER I. 

Page. 


An Unexpected Dive, 7 

CHAPTER II. 

The Quartet Appears, 26 

CHAPTER III. 

A Somewhat Queer Man, 47 

CHAPTER IV. 

A Tramp to Tramps’ Roostf, 68 

CHAPTER V. 

Buieding a Rustic Bridge, 9 1 

CHAPTER VI. 

Spring Beauties in Beoom, no 

CHAPTER VII. 

A Very Rainy Speee, *3 6 


5 




6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Page. 

More Sunshine and Fun 

CHAPTER IX. 

More Fun and Some Horse Sense, 178 

CHAPTER X. 

Something Between Whiles, 192 

CHAPTER XI. 

That Thursday— The Start, 208 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Great Secret Out, 222 

CHAPTER XIII. 

They were Cooks Aee, 241 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Some Big Game Bagged, 253 

CHAPTER XV. 

The Ever-memorabde Day Winds Up, 265 

CHAPTER XVI. 

A Day and Another Day After, . 276 



ROCKTON. 



CHAPTER I. 

AN UNEXPECTED DIVE. 

i peash ! SPLASH!! 

A little splash, instantly fol- 
lowed by the big splash. 

“ Wow !” squeaked a voice, in a 
droll tone of dismay, out of the 
middle of the capitalized splash. 

“ Con — .junctions !” it went on, changing to a 
pugnacious growl. “Just let me catch that 
chap!” 

Then a boy, standing above his knees in the 
water of a bit of a pond, began wading towards 
the shore, looking around sharply, all the while to 
see if his mishap had any spectators. Appar- 
ently no living thing was near, except a cat- 
bird, that was flitting among some alders, and 

7 



8 


Rockton. 


uttering a flat squawk at almost every jerk of 
its jaunty, mouse-colored body. 

All this, including even the big splash, was 
but a Lilliputian tumult in this big world of 
ours; yet, after the nature of small things, it 
had in it the beginnings to several boys of what 
appeared to be “tall times,” and which they 
allowed afforded them “no end of fun.” 

It was the afternoon of one of those warm 
days which sometimes gladden New England in 
the latter part of April, and which fill a boy’s 
heart with unbounded delight. Rockton was 
getting the full benefit of it, as it lay stretched 
below and around a long, rocky ridge, looking 
for all the world like the lazy body of a gigan- 
tic tramp basking in the sunshine. Out at the 
east was a cluster of houses answering well for 
the head of this imaginary Gulliver. Nearer, 
and under the ridge, the long, business portion 
of this great town formed his enormous body, 
with a broad street shooting out to the south for 
a left arm, while another, running in the oppo- 
site direction, wound like a bent right arm around 
the east end of the ridge to Northville village. 
To complete the illusion, for his legs there were 
two closely built and slightly diverging streets, 
pushed out from the body of the main village 
through the valley to the west. 

The rocky ridge north of the central village 


An Unexpected Dive. 9 

is a long, liigli swell of land, not very abrupt 
in some portions. Having been used for the 
grazing of cattle in earlier years, it has always 
been known as Pond Pasture ; the first half of 
the name being due to the existence of a spring 
of very fair water, in a hollow under the cliff- 
like south face of its ledgy crest, which little 
fountain, re-enforced by the melting snows and 
copious rains of March and April, is at that sea- 
son broadened into a shallow pond at least one 
hundred feet long and fully half as wide. 

The afternoon this story opens, Pond Pasture 
was not a pasture at all ; for the street, which 
has the whimsical appearance of the right arm 
of the reclining Rockton giant, having stretched 
around the ridge to its north slope, has grown 
into the enormous open hand of Northville, with 
twice as many streets as there were overgrown 
fingers on the hand of the son of Goliath of 
Gath. Besides, dwelling-houses have crept up 
and stuck themselves in all sorts of ways on the 
north slope, almost to the top. What is left was 
a fair pasture in a wet season, but has become 
only a big, rough common, waiting to be cut up 
into house-lots. 

When the boy who made the big splash was 
wading out of the not very clear pond, he had 
reason to think no person was in sight. Reason, 
however, is frequently at fault, especially when 


IO 


Rockton. 


it does not make allowance for unknown facts. 
If this boy could have looked through the 
ledge at the top of the ridge, where it is tilted 
and broken into fantastic shapes, he would have 
discovered a very observant fact, and, this too, 
within easy range of his aquatic mishap. 

For more than an hour there had been a 
man sitting on the north side of the ledge, in a 
nook which, while it sheltered him from the 
southerly wind, at the same time allowed him 
the full benefit of the early afternoon sunshine. 
By bending forward he could look into the hollow 
which holds the little pond. He had been di- 
viding his time between his newspaper and the 
view from his outlook, until his ear caught the 
sound of a voice. “All aboard for Brazil!’’ it 
shouted. 

Peeping through a ragged crack in the ledge 
against which he was leaning, he saw a boy, 
who, having brought together from somewhere, 
a number of boards and pieces of timber, had 
made himself a raft, and, having with a rash- 
ness too common in boys, stripped off his shoes 
and stockings, was teaching himself a lesson in 
navigation. He evidently had given the names 
of different countries to various points on the 
shore, and was industriously poling his unwieldy 
craft from one to another across his mimic ocean. 
Just as he was midway in a voyage from Brazil 


An Unexpected Dive. 


ii 


to Africa, another boy, who had skulked over 
from one of the irregularly placed houses, and was 
watching him from behind a part of the ledge, 
picked up a stone, threw it, waited an instant 
to see the result, and then scuttled away as fast 
as his legs could carry him. 

This stone made splash number one within 
a few feet of where the African voyager was 
pushing hard with his pole, causing him, as a 
matter of course, to tumble overboard, and make 
splash number two. 

When he got fairly ashore, and had picked 
up his shoes and stockings, he muttered : “ I ’ll 
bet Jim Mears did it. I ’ll fix him, see ’f I 
don’t.” Then he scrambled round a point in 
the ledge, and stood staring sheepishly into the 
laughing, hazel eyes of the man who had been 
watching him, and who said: 

“ Come here, Edward, out of the wind, and 
dry off in this hot sun.” 

Doubtless some boys would have 11 cut and 
run but this sturdy lad, if he had been sur- 
prised into a cold bath by the splash of a stone, 
was no coward. Besides, what was there to be 
ashamed of? What he did do was first to laugh — 
a good, hearty, boyish laugh, that tilted up his 
rather puggisli nose, and opened wide a very 
sizable mouth, well filled with strong, white 
teeth — and then he sat down in the sun as he 


12 


Rockton. 


had been bidden. Anybody looking at him 
would know that he was nobody’s bad boy. He 
was about a dozen years old, and, as stoutish 
boys sometimes do, looked a little as if he had 
been stuffed into his clothes. His hair, though 
short-cropped, seemed inclined to curl, and his 
broad, good-humored face was well sprinkled 
with freckles, and lighted up by a pair of honest 
and fun-full blue eyes. He busied himself for a 
bit in wringing the water out of the bottoms of 
of his short trousers, and then asked : 

“'How long, Mr. Armour, have you been 
here ?” 

“ O, long enough for you to make a voyage 
to Brazil and half-way from there to Africa,” 
was the reply. “ You made me think of a 
friend of mine — a very good and witty man — 
who made a voyage to Africa. He was seasick 
nearly all the time, and when he was out in 
mid-ocean wrote me a letter in which he con- 
gratulated himself that he was only three or 
four miles from land.” 

“ O my !” said Edward, “ he must have been 
awfully sick not to .know that Africa is n’t farther 
away than that.” 

“How far away is it?” asked Mr. Armour. 

“O, it is a big, big way off. I read some- 
thing about Stanley and the Congo River in a 
paper, and I got father’s big Johnson’s Atlas, 


An Unexpected Dive. 


13 


and Sarali measured it for me, and she said it 
must be ’most six thousand miles from New 
York to the mouth of the Congo.” 

“No doubt Sarah was right,” said Mr. Ar- 
mour; “but how far were you from the shore 
when you stepped off your raft?” 

The fact that his father is a master mechanic 
and has built many houses in Rockton may have 
helped the lad, for he answered quite correctly. 

“I guess about twenty-five feet.” 

“ And I reckon by the looks of your pants 
that you found land by going about twenty-five 
inches. My friend didn’t say how far he was 
from Africa, but how far he would probably 
have to go to find land.” 

“It would have been mighty wet when he 
got to it,” commented Edward. 

“Exactly,” said Mr. Armour. “You found it 
so when you got to it.” 

During this conversation the boy who had 
played the part of a catapult and then run 
away, had ventured out of his hiding-place, and 
was standing in the yard before the house. 

“Hello! Churnpy!” he shouted; “what’s the 
matter?” 

Edward jumped up and shouted back: 
“ Con — junctions !” — and got no farther, for 
Mr. Armour broke in with a “ ha ! ha!” which 
was full warrant for the strength of his lungs, 


14 


Rocicton. 


and reaching out he pulled the boy back to his 
seat, and said: “Young man where did you pick 
up this new expletive?” 

Edward grew rosy, but he answered stoutly: 

“ Sarah says I have got an awful bad habit 
of using slang, and what she says are half-swear 
words. So she has been trying to break 
me of it.” 

“Nice girl,” put in Mr. Armour. “I like 
her very much.” 

“Yes, she is as nice as any boy’s sister. 
She’s kept at me till I have left off most of the 
words she does n’t like. I’m a little peppery, 
’cos my hair is ’most red, I s’pose. When a 
chap gets started kind’er quick, you know, ‘ con- 
found it ’ is the handiest thing he can say.” 

“I know all about it,” said Mr. Armour, “for 
it was a trick of mine when a boy, and I did n’t 
have a sister to help me break myself of it, so 
I had a tough job. How does it happen that 
you spout con — junctions?” 

“That’s just it,” answered Edward. “I 
told Sarah that ‘confound it ’ would come out 
in spite of everything. She told me that for 
awhile I had better try to put something else in 
the place of it, and — O ! Mr. Armour, when 
you were a boy, did n’t you hate grammar?” 

The tall man’s hazel eyes seemed to be look- 
ing backwards through the years. He drew a 


An Unexpected Dive, 15 

long, deep breath, and then answered 111 a low, 
kind voice: 

“To be frank, I think grammar was the 
study I understood the least, and disliked the 
most.’ > 

“ That’s just me,” said Edward, as lie put on 
a comically doleful look. “I don’t understand 
the stuff one bit. I keep forgetting faster than 
I learn. Sarah had the awfulest time to get 
me to remember the parts of speech. I got 
them ’most all, but I stuck on conjunctions. I 
kept forgetting this so fast, I never should have 
remembered if she had n’t made me take the 
word to say in place of ‘confound it.’ It tickled 
me when I first tried it ; it sounded so funny. 
I guess that was what helped me to remember 
it. Anyhow when I got started with con — 
junctions came up real easy. So I’ve got rid of 
confound it, and have got hold of all the parts 
of speech.” 

“Chumpy! Chumpy!” piped out the boy in 
the yard, “may I come over?” 

“Isn’t this a new name for you, Edward?” 
asked Mr. Armour. 

“ It’s what most of the boys call me,” he an- 
swered, and then explained : 

“ When I was in Miss Barber’s division, she 
gave the boys words and had them hunt up def- 
initions at home, and then called us out on the 


i6 


Rockton. 


floor to give ’em. One day my word was 
‘chump.’ I looked it up in the big dictionary, 
and thought I had it all right, and was going to 
answer : ‘ A short, thick, heavy piece of wood.’ 
There was a big, woolly caterpillar crawling up 
on Miss Barber’s shoulder. I was tickling all 
over inside thinking how she would jump an’ 
scream as soon as it touched her neck. When 
she said : ‘ Edward Holt, define chump.’ I was 
all flustered, and blundered out, ‘ Chump — A 
short thick, heavy boy.’ Then they screamed, 
Miss Barber and all ; and she sent me to my 
seat. Ever since they’ve called me ‘ Cliumpy.’” 

“ I ’ve known greater misfits in the real 
names of people,” said Mr. Armour, as he laid 
his hand on Edward’s plump shoulder. “ I ’ve 
had many a hearty laugh over them.” 

“Are there any in Rockton?” asked Edward. 

“ I never was in a place where there were 
not,” was the reply. “ Down at the corner of 
Bridge and Mill Streets is a liquor-saloon. The 
man’s name who keeps it is True worthy,” 

“That’s so,” put iu Edward, “and I read in 
the Rockton Argus that a fellow they call Tru- 
man was sent to jail for stealing.” 

“ Good men, too, have misfit names,” con- 
tinued Mr. Armour. “Who keeps the dry-goods 
store down by Northville church ?” 

“ Why, Jabez Long, and he’s just the pudgiest, 


An Unexpected Dive . 17 

shortest man in town. But, 0 my! ain’t lie just 
good to us boys? and don’t we all like him?” 

“You are right, my boy,” said Mr. Armour. 
“ He is a clear-headed, big-hearted Christian man, 
happy as a king all the time, and doing his best 
to make everybody good and happy. There is 
another good man who runs the barber-shop just 
beyond Mr. Tong’s. He is a black man, and his 
name is White. He is an upright man. He 
won’t open his shop, and he will go to church on 
the Lord’s-day, if all North ville goes down town 
to shave. He is one of the whitest men I know. 
So his name is no misfit.” 

Just here “ Chumpy ” doubled up as much 
as his short, thick body would allow, and laughed 
until every seam in his jacket was put to a strain 
that threatened work for Sarah. At length he 
panted out : 

“ O, Mr. Armour, have you seen the man 
who drives the red butclier’s-cart ? He ’s the 
tallest, lankiest chap that ever was. They say 
he is ’mostseven feet high, and he looks as though 
he never ate a bit of meat in his life! Father 
says that if he could hire half a dozen carpen- 
ters as tall as he is, he could get rich, for he 
would n’t have to build any staging when he 
puts up houses. 

Mr. Armour joined in the laugh, for the boy’s 
description was hardly overdrawn. The man 


i8 


Rockton. 


was very thin, and surprisingly tall. When 
he stood at the tail of his cart to wait on cus- 
tomers, his hat towered above its canvas top, 
and when he got into the front to ride, he ap- 
peared to draw himself in, and coil his long 
body away. 

“ Do you know his name?” asked Edward. 
Mr. Armour shook his head, and he continued: 
“ Why, it’s Short! His other name is Robert, 
and so most people call him ‘ Bob Short.’ The 
boys call him ‘ Bobbed Short.’ ” 

“ It is droll,” said Mr. Armour ; “but we must 
be careful and not make sport of people’s pecu- 
liarities or infirmities. I like fun — I judge 
some think I like it too well — but I do n’t like 
all kinds of fun. I must have mine of the clean, 
jolly, health-giving kind, that helps one to be 
brave and true to duty, and loving to others. To 
change the subject, what is this little fellow’s 
name who has been shouting to you until he 
has got tired of it, and is now sitting on the 
front steps looking more dejected than you did 
when you waded out of the pond ?” 

“ That ’s Tim Mears — we call him Chippy.” 

“Did Miss Barber tell him to define ‘Chip,’ 
and instead of answering ‘a small piece,’ did he 
say, ‘ a small boy?’ ” 

“No, “replied Edward,- “I’m the only boy 
round here that ’s got what Sarah says is a 


An Unexpected Dive. 


19 


lit’rary handle to my name. When Jim Mears 
was littler than he is now, some of the boys found 
him in his back-yard crying because his mother 
had sent him out to pick up a big lot of chips 
when he wanted to play. The boys took hold 
and helped him, and now they ’most always call 
him ‘Chippy.’” 

“ Well, he does n’t appear very chipper just 
now,” said Mr. Armour. “ Why does n’t he come 
over with us if he wants to? Is he afraid of me?” 

“ I s’pose he ’s afraid I ’ll pull his ears,” was 
the somewhat indirect answer. 

“ Pull his ears ! What for?” questioned Mr. 
Armour. Without waiting for an answer he 
went on : “ You ought not to hurt him for a bit 
of a practical joke that taught you how much 
nearer you were to land than you thought. I 
do n’t think tricks of any sort are the brighest 
kind of sport; but if you play off jokes on others, 
you ought to expect they will pay you in kind. 
I reckon you have played many a prank to tease 
Chippy.” 

Edward indulged in another “ chunky ” 
laugh, and said : 

“ I guess I have. He sits in the seat in 
front of mine. T’other day he was studying 
his geography lesson like all possessed, for it 
was ’most time to recite. He ’s always leaving 
his things round anywhere. His slate was on 


20 


Rockton. 


the floor and I just made a slip-noose in the long 
string there was on it, and hitched it to his 
jacket. Just as I got it hitched, his class was 
called, and he started, and the slate started too. 
It whacked his heels and made him give a big 
jump, and that made it whack the desks. My! 
was n’t there a big clatter? and didn’t I expect 
to catch it ? But just as he turned round to see 
what was after him the noose slipped off, and 
Miss Barber said : ‘ Master Mears, I wish you 
would learn to leave your seat properly and not 
disturb the school by knocking things around in 
such a heedless way.’ My! I just hugged my- 
self to think how slick I’d got out of the mess.” 

“Of course Jim pulled your ears well for 
the trick the first time he caught you out of 
school,” said Mr. Armour. 

“He didn’t dare to try that sort of job,” 
Edward replied. 

“ Look here, young man,” said Mr. Armour, 
“I took you to be made of the right sort of 
stuff. I shall have to treat you to a lecture. 
The meanest thing in boy or man is meanness. 
You play a trick on a school-mate because he 
is n’t stout enough to punish you for it ; and 
then when he pays you off by another trick, you 
turn round and flog him because you are the 
biggest. Honor bright, now! Do you call it 
generous or manly?” 


An Unexpected Dive. 


21 


“N-no,” answered the boy. He did not 
laugh. Sarah, had she been there, would have 
felt no fear of extra work from the bursting of 
the seams of his jacket. 

The bright hazel eyes of Mr. Armour 
watched the sober face of the lad for a few 
moments; then he broke the silence: 

“ There are kinds of fun a long way ahead 
of practical joking, and I believe in going for 
the best of everything. Remember this: If you 
are willing to give, you ought to be at the least 
equally willing to take. Now, my young friend, 
my lecture is done. Suppose you invite that 
other joker over, shake hands, and call it square.” 

There was nothing pugnacious in the voice 
that shouted : 

“ Hello, Chippy ! Come over, won’t you?” 

Chippy was off the steps, through the gate 
and across the field “in a jiffy.” 

Mr. Armour took him kindly by the hand, 
and Edward also offered his chubby hand, 
and said : 

“All right, old man; I guess my ducking 
about pays for that slate racket.” 

When Edward had put his stout legs into 
his stockings and laced up his shoes, the three 
stood talking together ; and looking down upon 
the little pond, Mr. Armour said : 

“ When Edward went overboard in such a 


22 


ROCKTON. 


hurry, and I saw him paddling like a duck for 
the shore, I thought of a story I heard when 
a boy.” 

Seeing the boys evidently expected the story, 
he went on : 

“ A great, overgrown, awkward chap from 
away back somewhere, went to one of our big 
sea-ports, to see the ships and find out what he 
could about the sea. He had an immense long- 
ing to be a sailor, but had just as immense a fear 
of being hurt. He was so big, and appeared to 
be so strong, that several captains tried to in- 
duce him to ship for a voyage. But he did n’t 
like the idea of being far from land, and dreaded 
great storms. At length one captain told him 
that he intended every night to anchor so near 
the shore that he could sleep on the land if he 
preferred to, and that all the time he would 
keep so near the land that, if there should be a 
very hard storm, he could wade ashore. The 
bait took. He signed as a green hand, and went 
on board the ship. Of course the captain put 
straight out to sea. All was bright and smooth, 
and the first night he was told there was no use 
running round the shore when the weather was 
so fine. When they got well out of sight of 
land, a big storm came down, and it became very 
rough. The greenhorn was not only scared, but 
seasick. He went below, and would n’t show 


An Unexpected Dive . 


2 3 


his head above the hatchway. The mate tried 
to drive him on deck, but failed. Then the 
captain went below, and found the fellow bellow- 
ing like a calf. He tried to reason with him, 
and make him understand that he was in no 
danger. Greeny would n’t be pacified, and flung 
in the captain’s face his promise that he would 
not go so far away from land that he could not 
wade ashore. On this the captain told him 
there was nothing under the heavens to prevent 
his wading ashore if he wished to. ‘All youv’e 
got to do,’ he said, ‘ is to go on deck and start 
for the shore.’ This was too much for the poor, 
scared, seasick fellow, and he started up and 
blubbered : ‘ Y-you plaguey old fool ! Do 

you suppose I’m ten miles tall ?’ ” 

“ I’d like to go to sea,” said Chippy, after 
his laugh at the story was over. 

“ Pray tell us what for ?” asked Mr. Armour. 

“O, for fun,” was the reply. 

“Just what I expected you to say,” said his 
questioner. “ Now, boys, just pack this away 
in your noddles so you will never forget 
it. If you do anything just for fun, you will 
be disappointed every time. Now, Edward, tell 
what set you to paddling round on that pond?” 

Edward looked up into the tall man’s eyes. 
Something he saw there gave him a feeling of 
confidence, and he answered : “ I wanted to go 


24 


Rockton. 


into the woods this afternoon, but mother said 
she might want me at home, and I came out here 
to play where I could hear the bell which Sarah 
said she would ring when mother was ready to 
send me on an errand. I called that place there 
a cave and played hunter for a while, and then I 
thought I’d make a ship and be a sailor, and I 
tried to remember the names of the countries we 
study about — ” 

“ Ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling!” broke in the 
bell, stopping the boy short in the middle of a 
sentence. 

Mr. Armour took each lad by the shoulder 
and turned him around till he faced to the north. 
Then he said: 

“ Look all around. As far as you can see 
are hills and woods. What a splendid country 
to tramp over! I am a genuine tramp, and I 
like some kinds of boys. How would it do for 
you two, and perhaps some more, to join me in 
a few excursions?” 

“ Can’t we go next Wednesday?” asked the 
instantly excited Chutnpy. 

“Please let’s go next Wednesday ?” echoed 
Chippy. 

“ I think we won’t go so soon,” replied Mr. 
Armour. “ I am a bit like John Wesley who said: 
‘ I am always in haste, but nevei in a hurry.’ 
If you two will meet me here Wednesday after- 


An Unexpected Dive. 


25 


noon at half-past one, provided your parents are 
willing, you may each bring another honest, 
jolly, stout boy, as old or even older than your- 
selves, and we will talk things over then, and 
see what will come of it. I am afraid that bell 
will ring again. Now scamper.” 

And away they scampered. Shortly after, 
Mr. Armour walked slowly down into Nortliville. 

3 


CHAPTER II. 

THE QUARTET APPEARS. 



]\J EARLY every Church in Rockton has a 
clock on its tower. As Northville thinks 
itself the very finest portion of the town, 
as a matter of course, it regulates its high- 
toned daily routine by a clock in the tower 
A of the spick-span new church, which is its 
latest pride. Many church clocks are like the 
famous time-keeper that Mr. Gough -used to tell 
about to his audiences, of which the owner af- 
firmed : “ When the hands point to a quarter 
past two it strikes nine, and then I know it is 
just twenty- seven minutes past five.” It de- 
serves to be here recorded that Northville is 
justly proud of its clock, for it is reliable. 

Hardly had the last stroke died away with 
which it proclaimed the noon of Wednesday, 
when there came the sound of many feet from 
within the great square school -house on the 
next street. Immediately a stream of young life 



The Quartet Appears. 27 

poured out of its wide door-way, and overflowed 
its ample play-ground. 

Almost the first boy out was James Mears. 
He posted himself just at the edge of the noisy 
current, and waited for Edward Holt, when the 
two held an earnest consultation. As parties 
of boys started dinnerward, there were calls : 
“Come on, Chumpy !” and “ Hurry up, Chippy !” 
but without success. As a laggard came through 
the door, James said : “ There comes Bun. 

I’ll freeze to him !” This Arctic purpose he 
proceeded to execute by seizing a boy fast by the 
arm. Meanwhile Miss Barber was coming down 
the steps with a tall, quiet-mannered, fine-faced 
boy beside her, who appeared to be some thirteen 
years old, or thereabouts. Edward said : 

“Come along, Dolly Grant. We want to 
talk with you. Something’s up.” 

And then these four boys walked up the 
street, James and Edward explaining something 
to their mates with great volubility. It could 
not have been much past one when Edward 
Holt made his appearance on the ledge in Pond 
Pasture, where almost immediately he was joined 
by James Mears, who, out of breath with run- 
ning, panted : 

“ M-my but didn’t I almost miss it?” 

“ What got in your way ?” Edward asked. 

“Why, I just got in my own way,” answered 


28 


Rockton. 


James. “ I’m awful careless, mother says. I ’m 
’fraid it’s true. I was in such a big hurry to get 
my dinner that when I went into the house I 
did n’t see baby. He had pulled himself up be- 
side a chair. I blundered against it, and over 
he went with a squall loud enough to scare a 
fellow out of a year’s growth. ’Course I did n’t 
mean to hurt him. Mother, she just scolded, 
and said if she did her duty she would have to 
keep me in the whole afternoon. Crackey ! that 
just scared me worse than baby’s yelling. But I 
got her to let me hold the youngster, and in a little 
while I rocked him to sleep. Then mother put 
him in his crib, and told me to eat my dinner. 
Didn’t I hurry! When I was done, she told 
me I might come over and see Mr. Armour, but 
must come back when he was done with me.” 

“ I was in a hurry for my dinner, too,” said 
Edward. “ Father had some work to look after 
down town that made him late, and I was 
’fraid I ’d miss it. After he asked the blessing:, 
I stuffed as fast as I could. They all laughed 
at me. Sarah said I was an illustration of the 
theory of ev — everlution, and was only partly 
everluted from an Anerconder, for I was swallow- 
ing my food whole. Father said I was like Mrs. 
Partingtpn’s Ike, and had a great verloserty ol 
appetite. Mother said she was glad I was 


The Quartet Appears. 29 

going to see Mr. Armour ; but if I choked myself 
eating, I would miss the fun.” 

The boys congratulated each other on their 
mutual escape, the one from suffocation, the 
other from merited punishment. They watched 
for Mr. Armour’s coming, and grew impatient 
as they watched. They speculated as to possi- 
ble causes which might detain him altogether. 
Then they wondered if he might not be down 
town, and so come from that direction. As they 
stood looking down the south slope debating 
this possibility, the subject of their anxiety came 
with swift, strong steps out of the growth 
of birches that still fringed the east part of the 
ridge. The new, green carpet of grass gave no 
sound of his approach, and the boys, still look- 
ing townward, started with surprise as he said : 
“ Well, my young friends, are you planning for 
a joint voyage to Africa?” 

“ No,” answered Edward, “ but we were 
afraid you would n’t come — it ’s so late.” 

Mr. Armour laughed as he pulled out his 
watch. 

“How much late do you think I am?” he 
asked. 

Neither boy was able to tell him just how 
much he was behindhand, but each affirmed 
that it was so much as to cause the fear of his 


30 


Rocicton. 


continued absence. They were then asked the 
time set for the meeting, and both gave it 
correctly as half past one. Looking at the 
watch he held in his hand, Mr. Armour said: 

“It is now twenty-two minutes past one. 
You must have taken an early start. It is bet- 
ter to be too early than too late; but it is n’t well 
to waste time by being ‘too precipitate,’ as my 
grandmother used to say. Remember another 
thing : Time spent in waiting generally drags 
heavily. I have passed time in waiting when 
fifteen minutes seemed longer than an hour 
ordinarily. Always be prompt to meet an en- 
gagement, then you won’t have to wait your- 
selves or keep any one else waiting. But where 
are the other boys I told you to bring? Per- 
haps they are not as eager as you are; or 
may be you didn’t find any who wished to 
come.” 

James made haste to say that he had the 
promise of Bun Strong to be on hand, and 
Edward claimed to have been equally successful 
with Dolly Grant. Mr. Armour inquired as to 
the origin of these names, and was told that 
Benjamin Strong liked buns, and was inclined, 
when he had pennies, to invest them in this 
kind of eatable ; hence the name. Young Grant, 
he was informed was a nice-looking, well dressed 
chap, when he first came to school, and wore 


The Quartet Appears. 31 

liis hair in “girl’s curls.” Right away, as a 
matter of course, he was dubbed “Dolly,” and 
as his name was Adolphus, naturally enough he 
was Dolly still. Mr. Armour pointed to the 
clock on the Northville Church, and said : 

“It is time for your mates to be in sight.” 

Instantly the two boys beside him looked at 
each other sheepishly, and their looks said : 
“What fools we are! We might have watched 
the clock and known the time ourselves.” 

A sharp “Hullo” at their right caused 
James to squeal with delight: 

“Here they come!” 

Out of the same birches that had sheltered 
the approach of Mr. Armour, trotted young 
Grant and Strong. Mr. Armour shook hands 
cordially with each, but their impatient mates 
chaffed them for being late. 

DoHy good humoredly pointed to the clock 
and said : 

“Edward told me to be here at half-past one 
sharp! Ain’t we hereon time, Mr. Armour?” 

“Right on the dot, my boy,” was the reply. 
“And now we are all here, we will just get into 
my favorite nook for a little chat.” 

It was a lovely afternoon. The skies were 
cloudless, the air balmy, and the grassy slopes 
grateful to the eye in the velvety green of 
spring. The season was unusually early. Trees 


32 


Rockton. 


and shrubs were already clothed with light 
foliage and musical with the songs of birds. 
Benjamin Strong evidently had a good ear for 
music. He wanted all to listen and count the 
different birds whose notes they could hear. 
James expressed wonder that birds were able to 
find their way south in winter, and come back 
at the right time in spring. 

Adolphus, in his quiet way, suggested that 
perhaps they did not all go away in winter ; 
whereupon Edward poohed at him and told him 
that there was ’nt a bird to be seen in winter 
“’cept crows.” But Adolphus stood to his guns 
without flinching, and told them that his father 
had seen lots of birds when he had been out in 
the swamps in the winter. This caused a general 
appeal to Mr. Armour. 

He pointed to a robin, that had just alighted 
on a solitary cedar about one hundred yards 
away, and said : 

“See that little fellow. If there should come 
a cold snap and freeze the ground, he might 
find it hard picking. However, he knows how 
to get lik hving. We call birds of this kind 
robins, but they are thrushes. They are soft- 
billed birds.” 

Here Edward struck in for an explanation. 

“Soft-billed birds are not intended to eat 
seeds and other hard substances that have to be 


The Quartet Appears. 33 

liulled or in any way broken before they are 
swallowed. Boys did you ever see a hen’s 
teeth?” 

“They haven’t got any” cackled Edwaid. 
“I came into the house one day when there 
was company and went to tumbling things 
’round to find my ball. Sarah had me out in 
the hall in a jiffy, and told me that she believed 
gentlemanly boys were about as scarce as hen’s 
teeth. I went out in the stable and caught one 
of our old biddies, and she had n’t a tooth in 
her head. I thought p’r’aps she ’d lost ’em 
’cause she was old ; so I caught a pullet, but 
she was just as bad off.” 

All laughed heartily at the boy’s lesson in 
natural history, and Mr. Armour advised him as 
often as he saw a hen, at least to think about 
good manners. He then continued his remarks 
about birds. 

“Hen’s teeth, you see, are really in the crop 
or craw. Gravel and other hard and sharp 
substances serve to grind up food. The hard- 
billed bird cracks his seeds before he swallows 
them. Soft-billed birds eat worms, grubs, 
insects, and their eggs ; besides they eat fruits. 
This is for general diet. All birds, more or less, 
I think, eat worms, insects, and fruits. Some 
hard billed-birds go south. The bobolinks are 
the famous rice-birds some people think such 


34 


Rockton. 


nice eating. I am told that nowadays they 
shoot large numbers of the English sparrows, 
and serve them in restaurants for genuine rice- 
birds. I was taught when a boy that all our 
song-birds went south in winter, but it is a 
mistake. That robin that you scared away 
when you laughed at Edward may not have 
been farther south than some part of Connecticut, 
or New Jersey at the farthest. Goldfinches and 
linnets are said to go into the thickets, where 
they are well sheltered.” 

Here young Strong, who had been listening 
with mouth wide open, asked : 

“What do they get to eat?” 

“Trust Bun to think of eatables,” chipped 
in Chippy. 

“Well,” continued Mr. Armour, “it is quite 
a matter to think of. Bird or boy can’t get along 
a great while without food. So the great 
Father kindly cares for all. Thistle-heads, 
grasses, the various kinds of golden-rod, and 
hundreds of plants I can’t think of or don’t 
know the names of, are full of seeds. These 
are food for the birds, and when the snow 
covers the ground they know enough to 
fly straight to Dame Nature’s cupboards, 
just as a hungry boy goes to his mother’s 
cupboard.” 

“ If they do get enough to eat, I should think 


The Quartet Appears. 35 

they would freeze to death,” was the comment 
of Edward. 

To this Mr. Armour replied : 

“You can judge whether they are likely to 
freeze by what you know. The sparrows stand 
our roughest winters without going into the 
swamps. Perhaps it is because they are noisy, 
pugnacious pests, that they do n’t freeze. I 
have known them to roost behind my blinds on 
the iron fastenings when the mercury was ten 
degrees below zero, and they came out in the 
morning as lively and impudent as ever. Par- 
tridges find shelter in the deep snow when it is 
very cold. What they do when we have an 6pen 
winter I don’t know. I think they are not 
badly off. I have been in very thick woods, in 
valleys and on sheltered hill-sides, when a 
regular blizzard was blowing outside, and found 
these spots still and quite warm. Anyway, the 
birds do n’t freeze ; for in some of the tramps I 
hope we may enjoy together, we will be sure to 
see large numbers of them.” 

This reference to tramps set the boys to 
talking excitedly — at least all but young Grant. 
Evidently he was more mature and better in- 
formed than the others, though he joined with 
them in hearty good fellowship. 

Janies wished they could all start for Africa at 
once. When Mr. Armour asked him what he 


36 


Rockton. 


thought he could find there to interest him, he 
replied : 

“0, lions, tigers, elephants, rhinoceroses, 
hipperpottermuses, and crokerdiles.” 

“You think there would be big fun in finding 
all these, do you?” 

“’Course I do,” and his black eyes snapped 
and shone. 

“What fun would there be if a lion, tiger, or 
an elephant should chase you?” 

“I’d shoot him.” This very courageously, 
and a look as if he wished the biggest possible 
elephant was just then coming towards him. 

Mr. Armour laughed in a queer way that 
generally set others to laughing, and said : 

“If I am not mistaken, last Saturday after- 
noon I saw a chap about the size of James Mears 
running away from this very spot, for fear he 
would be hurt. But perhaps he saw something 
bigger than an elephant.” 

The bluster went out of the little fellow so 
completely, and he shrank into such a dejected- 
looking boy, that Mr. Armour hushed Edward 
and Benjamin, who began to chaff him, and said : 

“ It was too bad for me to make a point that 
way. I think he is a brave man who runs away 
when he can do no good by staying to get hurt. 
An Irishman said he had rather be a living 
coward than a dead hero. I do n’t believe in 


The Quartet Appears. 37 

being any kind of a coward. There are times 
when it is more courageous to run than to fight. 
If one of the African crocodiles that James would 
like to see, were coming for us just now, with 
great ‘openness of countenance,’ and evidently 
very hungry, I might wish to see him as much 
as any one, but I would prefer not to furnish him 
a dinner, and would get out of his way as fast as 
might be needful.” 

Sunshine having returned to James’s face, and 
the tongues of all the boys set freshly to wag- 
ging, they talked of the wonders strewn through 
this big world, of which they had read or heard, 
while their companion quietly listened and made 
mental notes. At length young Grant, in a 
respectful way, asked him if, when a boy, he had 
ever longed to go and see some of the big sights, or 
do some of the wonderful things he heard about. 

“I think” was the reply, “that he would be 
a very dull boy who never did. Boys were born 
to do something. It is this longing for some- 
thing that they think great or noble which, if it 
is rightly guided, will help to make them true 
men. I read the other day of a bit of a chap 
who hoarded his pocket-money until he could 
buy two pistols. Then he buckled on a belt, 
stuck in it the pistols and a carving knife, bor- 
rowed his father’s double-barreled gun and 
started off on foot for the West, to kill and 


38 


Rockton. 


scalp some Indians. It is this spirit of adven- 
ture, rightly guided, that has given the world 
such men as Columbus, Magellan, Cook, Wash- 
ington, Franklin, Livingstone, Stanley — in fact, 
all its good and great men. I felt some of it when 
a boy, but it didn’t develop much in any direc- 
tion. My first experience in running away from 
home cured me of all desire to repeat it ; just as 
James, if he should hunt up a crocodile and 
be eaten by him, would be completely cured of 
the desire to see him.” 

This confession of juvenile obliquity was 
followed by a bombardment of questions from 
the boys that did not cease until he capitulated 
and told the story of his attempted exploits. 

“ When I was a little shaver,” he proceeded, 
“I thought it would be wonderfully fine to be 
my own master and go anywhere, or do any- 
thing I pleased. Our house was on a street at 
the edge of the village. I used to look across 
the fields and a great sand plain, and see big 
hills away to the west, and I was always long- 
ing to travel and meet with some wonderful ad- 
ventures. One day things did n’t go to my lik- 
ing. I felt mean and snappish, and threatened 
to run away. Mother told me I need n’t run 
away ; I might go, and welcome. When I pro- 
tested that I would never come back, she said 
she was all the more willing for me to go. I 


The Quartet Appears. 39 

got my cap and said good-bye. There was just 
the queerest look in her eyes when she said 
that, as I never was coming back, I had better 
take some doughnuts in my pocket. She 
brought them and I stuffed two or three away. 
Then I got my bow and arrows to shoot my 
game, stuck my little hatchet in the belt of my 
blouse, for a tomahawk, and started across the 
fields. I remembered that I had n’t kissed my little 
sister good-bye, and was almost a’ mind to turn 
back and do so; but I thought it would n’t be manly, 
and so I pulled a stiff upper lip and went on. Then 
I thought mother seemed glad to be rid of me, 
and, as I had been cross and peevish before, the 
first thing I knew I was bawling. Crying and 
jumping a ditch didn’t go well together. I 
stubbed my toe, tumbled in the ditch, broke 
my bow, and got wet in a very sudden and dis- 
heartening manner. But I was bound to run 
away ! At last I got across the sand plain. 
Then I sat down, hot, tired and hungry ! How 
good those doughnuts tasted ! Then I was 
half crying again as I thought I should never 
eat another. It made me feel desperate, and I 
got up and trudged. Up through the pastures 
on the big hill I went. It grew hot. I thought 
it must be about ten o’clock. I lay down under 
a bush, and thought; and then all was blank for 
awhile, till a big bug crawled on my nose and 


40 


Rockton. 


woke me up. A striped snake wriggled out 
from under another bush close by, and that 
brought me to my feet. More : it made me 
afraid of bushes ; there might be more snakes ! 
I was thirsty ; worse still, I was hungry and had 
no doughnuts! I thought I would go into an- 
other pasture, and see if I could find some 
berries. I got over or under the bars, and had 
gone a little way when a cow came out of a 
clump of bushes, shaking her head at me, as I 
then thought (now I know it was because of the 
flies), and I ran for the fence, shaking all over. 
When I got on the other side of the fence, and 
saw no cows or snakes, I sat down on a hump 
of grass to rest. In a few moments I felt some- 
thing running up my trowser’s leg, and then 
came an awful nip ! I jumped and screamed 
and slapped. I had been sitting within a foot 
of a black ant’s nest, and one of their sentinels 
had felt insulted at the intrusion. By this 
time I did n’t feel a desire to go into any pas- 
ture, lie under any bush, or sit down on any- 
thing. I thought of mother — how I longed 
to see her ! — of father, and of baby sister. Of 
course, I had run away, and never should see 
them again. Then I cried some more. O dear! 
There was my pet kitten ' Why had n’t I 
brought it along? O, worse and worse ! was n’t 
this the very afternoon my jolly uncle Charles, 


The Quartet Arrears. 41 

mother’s youngest brother, had promised to take 
me to ride over to Firetown! By this time I 
wasn’t crying; I was just bellowing. I forgot 
all about running away, and put all my tired, 
tear-soaked energies into running home. How 
long the way seemed ! How heavy my aching 
feet ! I was the gladdest boy in America when 
I got into our back yard. I crept into the 
house, forgetting the hatchet, still sticking in 
my belt, sat down in my little chair in the 
kitchen, and went on with my boo-hoo solo. 
By and by mother came in to get supper ready. 
After awhile she asked : 

“ ‘Henry, did you see your uncle Charles 
this afternoon ?’ 

“‘N-n-no! Boo! hoo! boo! ho — o — 00!’ 

“ ‘ He came round with his gray colt to give 
you a ride. If he didn’t find you, I presume he 
took your cousin William.’ 

“Gall and wormwood all this! Didn’t I 
call myself all sorts of hateful names; and cried 
until I fell asleep in my chair. I dreamed I 
was away over on the hill-side, and was ruuning 
away from a big snake, when a cow came out of 
the bushes and caught me on her horns, and was 
tossing me up in the air. Just as I screamed, 

4 1 want to go home!’ I woke up, and mother 
was shaking me and telling me : 

“ ‘ Father has come home, and supper is ready.’ 

4 


42 


Rockton ; 


“ I was too tired to eat. My head, back, 
legs, and feet ached — what part of me didn’t 
ache? My face and neck were sun-burnt. It 
was a successful treatment by counter-irritation. 
After mother heard me sob through my prayer, 
and laid me in my bed, I put my arms around 
her neck and told her I never would run away 
again. Just before I dropped to sleep I heard 
father and mother talking and laughing. He said 
something which sounded like 1 radical cure if 
there is anything left of the boy,’ to which 
mother replied — I can hear her sweet, low voice 
now — ‘ There ’s the hatchet and the experi- 
ence.’ She was right. I have the hatchet 
laid away carefully, and I haven’t lost the ex- 
perience.” 

The quartet of boys unanimously voted 
that Mr. Armour’s story was “ first-rate,” and 
then returned to their talk about exciting ad- 
ventures. After awhile Mr. Armour asked 
them if there was not some boy who could be 
invited to join * them to whom it would be a 
treat. As he put it: “Some good-hearted 
youngster, who doesn’t have as many mates or 
chances for fun as yourselves.” 

Edward suggested that four boys were 
enough. Mr. Armour’s face wore a peculiar ex- 
pression. Some people thought nearly every- 
thing about him peculiar. Young Grant, talk- 


The Quartet Appears. 43 

in g with his mother about him, said : “ He 
doesn’t say anything sometimes ; but he looks 
just like a man does when he is putting down 
something in a memorandum-book that he means 
to be careful to remember.” 

When Chumpy made his ‘close corpora- 
tion ” remark, the eyes of this tall man made a 
note which read like this: “Humph! Selfish 
young man, are you? Must take that ugly 
kink out !” 

Benjamin Strong suggested that Brick 
Walters might be the right boy to be invited, 
as he had the hardest chance, and this because 
his mother was poor and had to keep him busy 
with little chores most of the time when out of 
school, so that he could n’t play as much as 
other boys, and, hence seemed to be “ kinder 
lonely like.” 

The note made by Mr. Armour’s eyes was 
this: “Good! You maybe a bit greedy, but 
you are generous.” 

James objected that Brick’s mother “does 
washing ” This chip must have hit Mr. Ar- 
mour in the eyes for instead of making a note, 
they blazed at poor Chippy with almost fire 
enough to burn him as he said : 

“ Get that sort of wickedness out of your 
heart and head at once. I have to depend on 
Mrs. Walters to keep me clean. I’m bound at 


44 


Rockton. 


least to respect those I have to depend upon. 
If anything, the fact I do depend on them would 
make them better than myself. There is no 
woman in Rockton more worthy of respect than 
Mrs. Walters, and she is the queen of laundresses 
besides. The boy who doesn’t respect her, 
can’t travel with me” — how James’s chin 
dropped ! — “ unless I can cure him of such misera- 
ble foolishness.” 

Adolphus, when asked, gave a good account 
of young Walters, and Mr. Armour pulled out 
two packages from his coat-pocket, and said : 

“ I am going to plant some beans in the 
garden of the house where I board. I bought 
these as I came along. You boys are my Club 
of Tramps, and no other boy can come in with- 
out your vote. Master Strong proposes the 
name of Bernard Walters.” Here he gave each 
boy a black and a white bean. “You are now 
to vote on the question of the admission of this 
candidate. My hat is the ballot-box. The 
white beans are for admission, the black are 
against. If there is a black bean in the hat the 
candidate is rejected.” 

He passed the hat around, and each boy put 
his hand in it. When he emptied it on the 
grass, four white beans dropped out, and he said: 

“ The ballot is clear, and Bernard Walters 
is elected a Tramp.” 


The Quartet Appears. 45 

When asked why this new member was 
called Brick, Edward said : 

“ When he first came to school we called 
him Brick-top, ’cause his hair is red. But one 
day a big boy was pestering Gracie Brown, and 
knocked her down in the mud, and he just 
pitched in and walloped him. Miss Barber 
punishes us awfully for fighting, but when 
Gracie told her story, she only patted him on 
the head and called him a perfect brick. So 
now we ’most always call him Brick.” 

Mr. Armour then had the boys look to the 
east, and told them that the wide range of wild 
land in that direction would be explored on 
their first tramp* He further told them that, 
north and west, there were great stretches of 
unsettled country, with ponds and streams, and 
many natural curiosities, which could supply 
amusement and instruction for more tramps 
than they could find time to take. 

Before this meeting of the Tramps broke 
up, he said: 

“ I am captain of this squad, and I expect 
every boy to obey orders like a soldier. I will 
appoint Adolphus my lieutenant, and you will 
obey all orders that come through him. I shall 
see your parents, and have their consent to our 
tramps together. My first General Order is for 
all to meet me at Mr Eong’s store at one o’clock 


4 6 


Rockton. 


precisely, next Saturday afternoon, unless you 
hear from me to the contrary.” 

He gave each boy his hand, and then went 
down through the birches faster than he 
came up. 


CHAPTER III. 

A SOMEWHAT QUEER MAN. 


Jy Ui ’ CZ EEMS to me there’s a sight of folks 
> I in Rockton,” was what Benny Strong’s 

} I grandmother said when she came from Ver- 
' mont to live with her son. The old lady 
was right. It is a busy, thriving populous 
A town. Not only are there a great many peo- 
ple, but there are a great many different people. 
To be peculiar in Rockton is to be very much 
in fashion. Indeed, this dissimilarity is so uni- 
versal that paradoxically it is the chief simi- 
larity, for it is common to all. All strangers 
who have thus been enlightened with regard to 
its people will understand that when Rockton 
says of any man, “ He ’s queer,” why, he is queer. 

When Mr. Armour came down from Pond 
Pasture on Wednesday afternoon, and walked 
up School Street, Annis Crab flattened her some- 
what prominent nose against the glass in a 
vain attempt to discover his destination. When 
he was out of sight, she asked Granny Norcross, 

47 


48 


Rockton. 


who had hobbled across the street for an hour’s 
gossip : “ Ain’t he queer?” 

The wrinkled old woman was regaling her 
beak-like nose with a pinch of snuff ; but she 
paused between sniffs to croak, “ Drefful.” 

Eet every reader take a good look at his 
photograph, caught as he walked along the 
street beyond the reach of Annis Crab’s gimlet 
eyes. “ Tall !” Of course ; and very tall 
among short men. Five feet eleven inches in 
his stocking feet would be quite an exact guess. 
Six feet as he stood or walked. Eyes hazel, 
bright, full, and — well, busy ! His hair matched 
his eyes, and there was plenty of it under the 
wide-awake hat that had a trick of sliding 
down on the back of his head. Complexion 
clear, palish, but healthful, as could readily be 
seen, because his face was clean shaven, all but 
the upper lip, on which grew what little four- 
year-old Minnie Wise when she kissed him, 
called a “ tellerabul bid muss-tass.” His mouth 
was large, and, as such mouths ought to be, 
firm and well-shut, the wide, flexible nostrils 
above affording ample proof that he knew how 
to breathe. The corners of his mouth drooped a 
little under the heavy thatch of the mustache, 
as if in sympathy with the eyes above in their 
habit of seeing the bright and droll side of 
things. His body was long and rather lean. 


49 


A Somewhat Queer Man. 

The shoulders stooped a little, perhaps — yes, 
perhaps; for his back was flat, and he could 
stand — O, so straight ! sometimes. His arms 
were long and swung free. His hands corre- 
sponded. They were not thick but long and 
muscular. As he walked around the corner of 
School and Linden Streets his pace seemed leis- 
urely enough, but young Walters, who was beside 
him, was pretty nearly exhausted, and broke into 
a trot to recover his wind. 

It must be admitted that most people enter- 
tained the same opinion of Mr. Armour as 
did Annis Crab, with this difference : Most peo- , 
pie liked him exceedingly — Annis apparently 
did n’t. It was Annis who said to Aunt Nancy 
Dwight, when his name happened to be men- . 
tioned : “I don’t see how you can like him, 
he’s so queer.” To this the sunny-faced old 
lady replied: “He may be queer, but that ’s just 
the reason why I like him.” Annis in this in- 
stance, as in many others, was in a minority of one. 

Some readers may be curious to know the 
business of this “queer” man. Herbert Ar- 
mour certainly had something to do ; at any rate he 
generally was busy, but he seldom appeared to 
be in a hurry. When asked by a stranger in 
town with whom he happened to be chatting, 
where his place of business was located, he 
vaguely answered, “ O, all over the lot,” and 
5 


50 


Rockton. 


then asked his questioner what he thought of 
the results of recent excavations in Egypt, of 
which he of course was utterly ignorant. 

One day he boarded the fast New York ex- 
press, and could scarcely read an item in the 
newspaper, he was so pestered with questions 
by the man who occupied the other half of the 
seat. He answered politely but reservedly for 
awhile, still trying to read, but the beetle-headed 
Paul Pry would not let him alone. 

As the train was “slowing up ” for New 
Haven station, the man began to arrange his 
“traps” to leave the car. When he was ready 
he nudged Mr. Armour, and said: “Now don’t 
try to be so close-mouthed.” Then touching 
his big “grip,” he added in a confidential tone: 
“ I ve got a patent nutmeg-grater, a flapjack 
turner, a mouse-trap, and a knife-sharpener that 
I ’m trying to get on the market.” Just at that 
moment the train stopped, and a brakeman 
sticking his head in at the door, shouted, “ New 
Haven.” The big bore had got out of his seat 
but his curiosity would not let him leave without 
twisting another question like a corkscrew into 
his victim. He leaned over and pointing to Mr. 
Armour’s modest russet hand-bag, said: 

“Come and tell us; what are you trying to 
introduce ?” 

“ You’ll give me away,” was the reply. 


A Somewhat Queer Man. 51 

“ No ; I won’t,” affirmed beetle-head, very 
stoutly. 

By this time nearly all the passengers were 
listening. Mr. Armour lifted the bag from his 
knees, and having placed it carefully on the seat 
beside him, looked up at the eager face of the 
bundle-ladened and curiosity-burdened man, 
and said : 

“Well, if you won’t give it away I will tell 
you — confidentially, you know” — here beetle- 
head nodded sagaciously, and winked with his 
dexter eye — “ I am trying to introduce a con- 
trivance to help people mind their own 
business.” 

Lawyer Newhall, who was also on his way to 
New York, where he was to appear in the famous 
case of Pinch vs. Scratch, told the story all 
over Rockton when he got back. 

Yes, Herbert Armour was “ queer.” If he 
chanced to see a drunken man who tumbled 
down, he would pick him up carefully, talk to 
him softly, and lead him home. Quite likely he 
would stop around until he “ sobered off.” But 
if a balky horse aggravated a hot-tempered 
driver, and he resorted to heavy lashing and 
cursing, this same soft.-spoken man would not 
hesitate to clap his muscular hand on the 
swearer’s shoulder, and tell him to stop both his 
blasphemies and his blows. Droll stories are 


52 


Rockton. 


told of what “ Granny Norcross ” called his 
“ goin’s on.” A farmer came in from what is 
known as the Ward District, some two miles out, 
and left his team before Mr. Long’s store, while 
he did an errand for his wife. On the wagon- 
seat was a little mite, hardly big enough to 
walk, much less to care for herself or the horse. 
Evidently the farmer reckoned the old horse 
perfectly safe, for he did not tie him. Scarcely 
was he inside the store when a barge full of 
rollicking school-boys came down the street. 
They were waving flags, shouting, singing, 
blowing horns, in fact doing about all they could 
to make a big noise. The farmer’s old horse 
looked up, snorted, and started. Mr. Armour 
was coming up the street, and saw the child and 
her danger. He did not jump before the fright- 
ened horse, or make the least noise. He turned 
and ran for a few rods at a surprising speed be- 
side the horse, at the same time seizing the bits. 
The next instant he had spoken, the weight of 
his strong hand was felt, and he was leading the 
horse quietly back, as if catching runaways was 
the most commonplace and simple thing in the 
world. The farmer terrified at the danger of 
his child, was profuse in his thanks, when what 
did this tall man do but turn on him, and be- 
rate him as he afterwards, said, “ ’S if I was a 
pickpocket” — for risking the life of his child so 


A Somewhat Queer Man. 53 

heedlessly, and forcing other people to endanger 
their lives to prevent the consequences of his 
negligence. When the confused father tried to 
stammer out that the horse was old and safe, he 
was told that he had no business to leave a horse 
unhitched under such circumstances, even if it 
were u a saw-horse.” 

One evening he was walking in one of the 
worst localities in the town. A snow-storm had 
ended in a warm rain, and the streets, and es- 
pecially the gutters, were full of slush. A lot 
of half-drunken rowdies were having what they 
called a “ high old time.” They would block the 
way and drive timid passers into the slush, and 
then make the night hideous with their roars of 
drunken laughter. Mr. Armour noticed their 
pranks, and as he came near them saw that there 
was a young woman, who dared not pass through 
the crowd, and who was intercepted by some of the 
roughs when she would turn back. In a mo- 
ment he was beside her, telling her in his quiet 
way to move along with him. At his “ step 
aside, gentlemen,” they all gave way, except a 
great lout of a bully who leaned before Mr. Ar- 
mour to get a look in the girl’s face, only to be 
shouldered into the gutter. As he was well 
filled with “ Jersey lightning,” he was more 
than full of fight, and started after the man who 
had caused him to wet his feet. Mr. Armour 


54 


Rockton . 


hearing his oaths and rapid approach, told the 
girl to go on her way without fear, and then 
turned back. The bully struck straight at him 
only to have the blow neatly parried, and at the 
same time to be tripped in a way that caused 
him to pitch backwards into the gutter, where 
he began to call on his mates to “ take him off.” 
Mr. Armour reached down, grasped him by his 
collar and lifted him on to the edge of the side- 
walk apparently as easily as he had canted him 
over, and walked away with a contented smile 
on his face, as though the tripping up of bullies 
was the pleasantest of pastimes. 

All sorts of queer speeches are reported as 
having been made by this tall fellow on partic- 
ular occasions. Of these only one sample need 
be given. There was a big social gathering 
somewhere in the town, and though he some- 
times avoided such places, declaring he had no 
taste for “herb-tea dissipation,” he was present 
on this occasion. The conversation turned at 
length on missions and missionary work. Miss 
Jennie Gusher — her real name was Jeannette, 
but she was of too light weight for anything but 
the diminutive — was very sentimental over the 
condition of little trowserless and bookless 
heathen boys. She expressed a great desire to 
expend her shallow energies in their behalf. She 
simpered at Mr. Armour, and asked : “ Do 


A Somewhat Queer Man. 


55 


you think I could relieve their sad, sad lot, 
if I should devote my life to it?” Then, as 
he did not answer, but appeared to be thinking, 
she went on to repeat her desire to cross the 
seas for their good, to which she added her fear 
that she would not be able to master the lan- 
guage or impress the minds of these small, half- 
nude idolaters. Finally, she again appealed to her 
listener, entreating him to tell her how she might 
learn whether she was adapted to the work. 

There was not even the shadow of a smile 
on his face as he told her she could very readily 
prove her value as a missionary. That there were 
a lot of little, half-naked heathen she might try 
her powers upon down in Swamp Lane. Swamp 
Lane was formerly a cart-path leading from* the 
center of the town to a swamp on the south. 
Here a dozen families of the worst class had 
built cabins or huts that swarmed with dogs, 
pigs, and ragged and unruly children. With his 
face still “as sober as a judge,” he explained: 

“ You see, if no other damage was done, it 
would cost a deal of money to send you so far 
away, which would, of course, be uselessly ex- 
pended, if, as you seem to fear, you should prove 
a failure. Now, it won’t cost a dime to send you 
to Swamp Lane. The heathen there need you 
just as much as they do in Asia or Africa. If 
you succeed there, you can anywhere. If you 


56 


Rockton. 


do n’t succeed, there won’t be any money wasted. 
Besides yon can get home in less than an hour 
without the slightest risk of shipwreck on the 
way.” 

It would be impossible to describe the dis- 
gust on Miss Jennie’s face, or the scornful tilt of 
her little nose as these unwashed, young “ Swamp 
Laners ” were thrust under it. It is doubtful if 
she saw the point, but the company did, with 
perhaps a few exceptions. Skinner Flint, a nar- 
row-headed, narrow-minded, penurious man, who 
had grown rich by hoarding, was present, but he 
did not see the point. He seldom or never did, 
of anything witty or humorous. The boys ab- 
breviated his name to “Skin Flint,” and declared 
it to be as impossible for him to laugh as 
one of the tanned hides in which he dealt. 

Deluded by the gravity of Mr. Armour’s 
countenance into thinking that there was agree- 
ment of opinion between this popular gentleman 
and himself, he expressed his approval of the 
suggestion for missionary work in Rockton, and 
with pomposity and obtuseness common to his 
class, quoted the devil’s pet adage : “ Charity 

begins at home.” There was an instantaneous, 
lighting gleam from a pair of hazel eyes, followed 
by a low, even voice, which said : 

“ My dear sir, that is a lying humbug that has 
been bed-ridden for thousands of years.” 


A Somewhat Queer Man. 57 

Whatever can be done with such a “ queer 
man ?” It might reasonably be expected that 
people would refuse to put up with his ways. O11 
the contrary, they seemed to like them. After the 
double broadside he had discharged at this gath- 
ering, he was the lion of the evening. Skinner 
Flint begged him to call at his house as a great 
favor, while Miss Gusher simpered at him worse 
than ever. It must, however, be remembered 
that he was unmarried. 

It must also be said that this “queer man” 
was especially liked by boys. It was the almost 
daily aggravation of Annis Crab that if her green 
eyes looked^ out of the front windows of her 
house, outside of school-hours, she saw him, as 
she snappishly told her happily deaf old mother, 
“just wasting his time with a passel of boys at 
his heels.” 

One day he was passing the big school-house 
in Northville just as the children came pouring 
out for recess. Merry voices called his name, and 
he stopped and lifted his hat to the crowd. Just 
at the same time Wesley Jones, a red-faced, jolly 
hearted farmer, drove along with a couple of 
bushels of Early Harvest apples he was intend- 
ing to peddle out somewhere in the village. Mr. 
Armour beckoned him to stop, which, nothing 
loath, he did, and was asked the price of his 
fruit, which he gave as one dollar and a half per 


58 


Rockton. 


bushel. He was asked what he would take for 
the lot, and sell on the spot. 

“ Why,” he said, “ if you want a basket of 
them apples for yourself, you can have them for 
nothing and cartage thrown in. But law me !” 
he added with a wink, “I do n’t see what use 
you have for ’em.” 

Mr. Armour laughed at the little joke, and 
said : 

“ I am a single man, but I have a lot of 
sweethearts, and they are apple hungry.” Then 
taking out of his pocket a couple of silver dol- 
lars, he added : “ I will give you two dollars 

for your apples, and won’t charge you anything 
for seeing the fun.” 

How the blue-frocked farmer laughed ! He 
reached for the dollars, and said : 

“Gosh, I ain’t going round the town ped- 
dlin’ apples by the peck when I can sell whole- 
sale. Besides I can see your fun, and get back 
home in time to do a big stroke of work.” 

Mr. Armour stepped to the window where 
Miss Barber stood watching the sports of her 
rather wild urchins, and after he had spoken 
with her, he returned to his place beside the 
wagon while she held a moment’s conference 
with the other teachers, which resulted in an ap- 
proving nod when she reappeared. It took but a 
moment to secure silence. 


A Somewhat Queer Man. 59 

“Stand just where you are till I tell you 
what to do.” They stood. “ How many girls 
like apples? Up with your hands.” Up they 
went. “ How many boys like apples? Hands 
up !” 

“ Girls, you get in a row. Little girls first. 
Do n’t crowd ! Now come along in a line. Do n’t 
hurry !” and every girl had an apple in a very 
short time. Then came the boys with equal de- 
light. When all were served perhaps a peck of 
apples were left, and these he asked Mr. Jones to 
leave at Mrs. Walters as it would be but a rod 
or two out of his way, and was off in a twink- 
ling to escape the cheers which he heard some 
of the boys proposing. 

It has already been noticed that the portion 
of Rockton known as Northville, has grown in 
a fashion peculiarly its own, well up on the 
north slope of the ridge which intervenes be- 
tween it and the central portion of the town. 
The street on which James Mears and Edward 
Holt lived runs from east to west almost at its 
very summit. It was intended to give it a high- 
sounding name. All thought it deserved it. 
Each had “just the fit ” to propose: “High,” 
“Tip-top,” “ Summit,” “Lookout,” “Seaview ” 
(somebody affirmed that, with a good glass, some- 
thing that looked like the sea could be seen on 
a clear day), “ Sunrise Avenue,” “ Sunset ditto,” 


6o 


Rockton. 


“ Upland,” “ Cloudland Avenue ” (no part of the 
ridge was two hundred feet above the valley), 
“Overlook;” as has been said every one had a 
name. Agreement seemed impossible. At one 
of the meetings of the residents a wag suggested 
that inasmuch as no name could be found upon 
which -two could agree, they had better dub it at 
once “ Nameless Street.” This, of course, could 
not be agreed to, but practically it was a name- 
less street for a considerable time. At length the 
boys began to call it “ Ridge Street,” presently 
the older people fell into the habit of the boys, and 
after a while residents on it had the name used 
in the direction of their letters. Then the rest 
of the town used it. Thus what everybody dis- 
agreed about was settled, and by general con- 
sent. “ Ridge Street ” it was christened, and 
Ridge Street it is to this day. 

It might have been about fifteen minutes 
before eight on Wednesday evening, when Mr. 
Armour walked with his usual leisurely swing 
along this street. The exact time is of no im- 
portance, but it is certain that nearly three-quar- 
ters of an hour before the sun had dropped from 
sight behind a fringe of woods far away to the 
west, and the ruddy reflection of his setting had 
died out in the windows of the houses. Great 
shadows were spreading softly over the land- 
scape. The darkness seemed to fall like a mystic 


A Somewhat Queer Man. 6i 

curtain, from tlie heavens, through which the 
stars faintly peeped, but with a growing bright- 
ness in their twinkling glances. Out of the deeper 
darkness of the town below there began to shoot 
forth, here and there, answering gleams, as though 
heaven and earth were signaling to each other ; 
the stars above telling of God’s love and ever- 
watchful care, the lights beneath answering back 
of human hope and trust in darkness. Both 
seemed shining prophecies of the coming day 
when there shall be no need of “ candle, neither 
light of the sun.” 

James was on hand, with a cordial greeting 
for his tall friend. The short call which fol- 
lowed must have been in everyway satisfactory; 
for when the door opened again to let the vis- 
itor out, Mr. and Mrs. Mears both stood in it, 
wishing him good evening with pleasant smiles, 
while the face of the fairly capering boy was 
a picture of exuberant delight. 

As the firm and regular steps of the evening 
caller fell on the walk leading to the main en- 
trance of Mr. Holt’s substantial dwelling, a 
keen-eyed observer might have thought he no- 
ticed the faint outline of a form sitting in the 
deep dusk at the parlor window. However, this 
might have been an illusion ; for as Mr. Armour 
came near and glanced at the window, there 
was absolutely nothing to be seen. Still it was, 


62 


Rockton. 


as Granny Norcross is apt to say about tilings, 
“ curious ” that Sarah Holt should almost in- 
stantly answer the ring of the bell, and still 
more unaccountable that a man with such long 
legs, and in good health, should require full five 
minutes to get from the outside door to the sit- 
ting-room. Perhaps he was hunting for a place 
to hang his hat. 

But the sitting-room ! Yes. It was a sitting- 
room. The first impression was that of light. 
There was plenty. The smallest child sitting 
at the window would surely have been seen from 
the outside. Then it was cheerful. Not merely 
because of light, but somehow in itself. One 
side was fitted with shelves, and they were filled 
with books, pamphlets, and papers. There were 
not so many very recent works, but those of 
the old masters. Mr. Armour once remarked as he 
was running his eyes over them : “ You have here 
the cream of literature.” Whatever there might 
have been of gilt on the bindings had become 
dimmed, and they wore the look of having been 
freely used. Appearances in this case were not 
misleading. Mr. Holt was a broad-shouldered, 
solidly built man of middle height, with a well- 
shaped, wide-browed head, crowned with thick, 
curling chestnut hair. His beard was thick, 
close trimmed, and reddish. Both beard and 
hair showed faint streaks of gray. His eyes were 


A Somewhat Queer Man. 63 

blue, keen, but very pleasant. It may be briefly 
said that he was a brainy, broad-minded, (some 
men are brainy, but narrow - minded) large 
hearted, true-souled, energetic man, with a 
straightforwardness of speech, and action which 
brought him large confidence from good men, 
and at least respect from many of the other 
sort. 

The principal person in the room has not 
been first noticed. At least Mr. Armour always 
considered her so. As he is an unusually wise 
man, undoubtedly he was right. In no respect 
did people more heartily indorse his judgment 
than in this. This calm -browed, intelligent- 
faced, womanly woman, who could describe? 
Her smooth hair had its threads of silver, and 
there were lines about the earnest, kindly eyes, 
which told the story of a day of great sorrow, 
which closed the bright young lives of a sou and 
a daughter. 

All this time Mr. Armour has been left in the 
act of entering the sitting-room. It is to be 
hoped that he did not become tired with his 
snail-like progress. Probably he did not, for 
Miss Sarah was by his side all the while, and 
he ap'peared to have a greater dislike to “hur- 
ryment” than usual.” 

As it looked a little hazy in the east, the time 
of this digression might have been employed in 


6 4 


Rockton. 


settling weather “ probabilities.” Any way the 
tall man looked down on the graceful, young 
woman with a smile that ought not to have been 
called out but by a prospect of a spell of very 
sunshiny weather. 

Edward Holt was on hand, as usual, and wel- 
comed his friend somewhat noisily. He has al- 
ready been well introduced and will often show 
himself in these pages. Sarah Holt at this point 
makes her first appearance in person. She was 
the eldest of four children, and at this time a 
well - formed, healthy, and sprightly young 
woman, somewhere in her early “ twenties.” 
Sitting fully in the light — her complexion can 
bear it — she looks like both father and mother. 
Her hair is a tawny chestnut, and no matter how 
much she tries to smooth it, has a trick of pull- 
ing itself out in curls like little tendrils, and 
fluffing all around her shapely little head. She 
is a witty, sensible, lovely girl. Her parents are 
proud of her. 

The young men of Rockton watch her when 
she goes into church, and watch her when she 
comes out. If Annis Crab is to be believed, 
they watch her all the time between this coming 
in and going out. But then Annis is getting 
tired of “watching and waiting” for somebody 
to watch her, and is evidently growing a trifle 
sour and spiteful. If this were not so, she 


A Somewhat Queer Man. 65 

would not have snapped out to Aunt Nancy 
Dwight: 

“ Seems to me Mr. Armour is mighty fond of 
wasting his time in Pond Pasture.” 

“ Perhaps he goes up there to get rid of 
women,” said this sweet, old saint, at which re- 
ply Annis only sniffed. 

When the clock on the mantle in Mrs. Holt’s 
sitting-room sent out its one soft, musical note 
for half-past eight, Edward looked up into his 
mother’s, and then his father’s eyes. What he 
saw therein was hardly satisfactory, for his chin 
took a large drop ; but he arose, and wishing his 
friend a comically mournful “good-night,” took 
himself off to bed. 

Evidently Mr. Armour was felt to be much of 
a friend, and when the boy’s footsteps died away, 
he was, for a few moments, a subject of remark. 

Mr. Holt said he was a good boy — he thought 
him honest, capable enough, and all that, but 
that he was “ inclined to be selfish.” When he 
had thus expressed himself, his eyes sought those 
of his wife, and seemed to ask: “ How can he 
be selfish with such a mother?” Her eyes, as 
they looked back full of light and love, seemed 
to ask : “ How can he be selfish with such a 

father?” 

Mr. Armour was listening in silence, and his 
eyes seemed to be asking: “ Is it possible that 
6 


66 


Rockton. 


a boy can be selfish with such a mother and 
father?” They seemed to be adding to it — 
“ and with such a” — but the voice of Mr. Holt 
caused him to turn his head, and the rest of this 
mental question had no expression. 

Mrs. Holt talked in her sweet, even voice of 
her boy, and told of the great sorrow which had 
bereft their home. She thought that they might 
have caused this selfishness in Edward by the 
tenderness in which he had been reared. She 
hoped for the best. She wished him to grow 
manly, and large-hearted ; and expressed her 
conviction that a man like their friend might be 
able to do more to correct this wrong bent than 
even those who loved him in his home. 

Before he left, Mr. Armour mentioned his 
plan to find at least amusement and profit to 
himself in a few tramps around the neighboring 
country in company with some Northville boys, 
and asked that Edward might be allowed to join 
him. 

This was of course agreed to, and the visitor 
took his departure, not however, as in his pre- 
vious call, attended by the family conclave. Per- 
haps mischievous Edward had hid his hat. The 
distance from the sitting-room to the front door 
had not shortened during his stay, for it took 
fully as much time to travel it as it did before. 
At length the boy who could not sleep, but was 


A Somewhat Queer Man, 


67 


listening in his room above, heard a flute-like 
voice say “ good-night ” followed by the closing 
of a door — which significant sounds caused him 
to turn his face to the wall, and testily mutter, 
u Con — -junctions !’’ 



CHAPTER IV. 


A TRAMP TO “ TRAMPS’ ROOST.” 

> ATURDAY, 10.40 A. M. Recess at 
school-house on School Street. Five 
boys holding confabulation in a corner of 
the play-ground. 

11.45 A. M. In the school-room. Five 
•A* boys, with eager eyes, stealing furtive glances 
at the clock. 


12.3 P. M. Outside the school-house. Five 
boys in a hurried consultation. 

12.4 P. M. A red-haired chap scudding east 
along School Street. A tall boy, with a chubby- 
cheeked mate, scampering around the corner of 
the first street leading north. Edward and 
James splitting the wind in a race towards 
Ridge Street. 

12.25 P. M. In five houses in Nortliville, 
five boys making heroic efforts to spoil their 
digestion by rapid eating. 

12.40 P. M. Ridge Street. Edward rushes 
out of the yard with an ear-spliting u whoop-la!” 

68 


A Tramp to “ Tramps' Roost” 69 

Half a minute later James tumbles pell-mell 
over a slop-pail on the back stoop of his home, 
and chips a bit of cuticle off his shin, and an- 
other off his elbow as he “brings up,” or down 
rather, at the bottom of the steps. 

“Bother the luck!” he grunts. Then he 
scrambles up, and runs out to meet Edward with 
a wild “ hurrah !” 

“Tip-top, ain’t it?” 

“ Splendacious !” 

Away they go, full of life and hope, and 
with merry hearts trot down the street into the 
village. 

12.50 P. M., sharp. In front of a store. 
Over the door a big sign with “Jabez Eong, 
Dry Goods,” in gilt letters. Before the door 
four chattering boys. Even Adolphus Grant is 
unusually loquacious. Edward and James are 
both talking excitedly at the same time. 
Benjaming Strong is talking by spurts, but, true 
to his ruling passion, makes his jaws do double 
service by devouring what looks, as it rapidly 
disappears, very much like a bun. 

Mr. Eong comes out to greet them with a 
smile. This starts the gabbling chorus afresh. 
The good man listens with interest, and his 
laugh has as jolly a ring as either of the boys’. 
Said he ; “ I ’ve almost a mind to run along, too.” 

“ Do ; please do,” they all chorused. 


70 


Rockton. 


“ I ’d just delight to do it. I feel just as 
young this minute as ever I did. Sometimes I 
feel so much like a boy I act like one. Then 
the rheumatism grabs me, and pinches and 
jabs me, and says : ‘ Take that for trying to act 
like a gosling when you are an old goose !’ ” 

As the boys continued to urge him to go, he 
promised to try to arrange to join them in some 
of their tramps, and then asked : 

“ How many of you have taken a lunch 
along?” 

All were silent. Even Bun had n’t a cake 
to his name. 

“ I ’ll wager an old shoe-string,” he continued, 
“ that you were in such an awful hurry that you 
swallowed your dinners whole, and didn’t allow 
yourselves time for more than half rations at that.” 

The faces of the still-silent boys satisfied 
him that he had won his wager. In an instant 
he had darted through the door of the next 
shop. The prospective tramps had not done 
“ dusting each others’ jackets,” as they called 
it, for their stupidity in forgetting their stomachs, 
when he was back with four neat, brown paper 
parcels in his hands. As he gave one to each 
boy he said : 

“ Molasses cakes and cheese are just the bill 
of fare for a hungry tramp, when he stops for 
a lunch in Brush Hotel. Stuff them in your 


A Tramp to “ Tramps' Roost: 71 

pockets. I guess you ’ll find them as some- 
body called something else, ‘ werry fillin’.’ 
That is ” — here he chuckled, “ if you keep up 
with Mr. Armour’s long legs all the afternoon.” 

12.58 P M. Same place. Four boys stuff- 
ing four paper packages into four pockets, look 
suddenly up and shriek in unison, “ Here he 
comes !” 

Less than sixty seconds later Mr. Armour 
had shaken Mr. Long’s generous hand, and was 
surrounded by the boys, each declaiming and 
patting his protuberant pocket. 

“ Time will be up in thirty seconds,” he 
said. “ We must be moving, for I told Bernard 
Walters we would pick him up on the way.” 

“ Hold oil for just ten of ’em,” puffed Mr. 
Long, as he bobbed once more over the steps ot 
the other store. Back he came almost as quickly, 
and handing another paper parcel to Mr. Ar- 
mour, wheezed out : 

“ It ’s my treat. Did n’t know young Walters 
was one of your squad. He ’s one of my bright 
boys. Tell him not to give all the cakes to 
Ben Strong.” 

Even Bun joined in the laugh at this “ dig,” 
that lasted until its author had waved the jolly 
boys and their leader good-bye as they disap- 
peared around the corner. 

1.3 P. M. Annis Crab’s house. Granny 


72 


Rockton. 


Norcross at the front window. She had poked 
over “ airly,” as she said, “ for fear it’ll rain ter- 
morrer, an’ I shall liev’ ter stay ter home ” Annis, 
for once, is in the background. 

“ ’Sakes alive!” squeaked the little old gossip, 
as she caught sight of the squad marching up 
the street, “ ef there ain’t thet long-legged Ar- 
mour with a passle of boys taggin’ at his heels.” 

This caused Annis to change front, and 
make a charge upon the window. Her green 
eyes snapped as her tongue snapped : 

“ I hope to goodness they won’t get into 
any scrape !” 

Annis lived in perpetual fear for other peo- 
ple. She was in a constant state of apprehen- 
sion that somebody or everybody would “ get 
into a scrape.” Whatever she meant by this, no 
mortal ever discovered ; but it has come to be a 
standing jest. When a Northvillian meets with 
some funny mishap, his friends joke him for 
getting into one of “ Annis Crab’s scrapes.” 
Solomon Whagg came along one day as she was 
sitting at the open window, where she could 
work and watch. He pulled up with a solemn 
look on his face, and asked: 

“ Have you heard the news?” 

“Mercy on us! No. Who’s run away? 
Who ’s dead?” 

The old man’s face grew more solemn. He 


A Rramp to “ Tramps' Roost.” 73 

groaned, as Granny Norcross afterwards said, 
“ clear down ter his boots,” and replied, “ No ; 
he has n’t run away ” — here he groaned again, 
and rubbed his eyes with a big turkey-red cotton 
handkerchief — “ and he is ’nt dead.” 

By this time Annis was half-way out of the 
window and the yellowy wrinkled face of Granny 
Norcross was pushed out over her shoulder. 

“What is it?” “ Who is it?” “ When was 
it?” The' questions came tumbling over each 
other like boys playing leap-frog. 

The old man only groaned the more dolor- 
ously, and shook his head. 

“No; you’ll tell, and there’ll be mischief.” 

“ No we won’t,” they both protested as they 
protruded themselves still further through the 
window. “Tell us who it is, any way?” 

“Won’t you ever tell nobody?” 

“ No ; never !” shrilly chorused the pair. 

“ Honor bright?” 

“Yes; yes; honor bright ! Now, Solomon 
Whagg, you just out with it. Who is it?” 

The old man looked all around as if to make 
sure nobody else could be within hearing. Then 
dropping his voice to a hoarse whisper, he said : 

“ The old scratch will be to pay if you dare 
tell of it. It’s Amos Brown.” 

“Amos Brown!” Annis almost shrieked. 
“ Who would have thought it?” 

7 


74 


Rockton. 


“ Hush ! The neighbors will hear you,” 
pleaded Solomon, with a great look of fear on 
his grizzled face. 

“ Amos Brown !” quacked Granny Norcross. 
“ He ! he ! Deacon in the Church, too !’ 

“Yes,” commented Annis, “tall, too, and 
homely. Old enough to be my grandfather, 
and always looking sober as an owl.” Here her 
eyes gave their accustomed snap. “He’s just 
the kind of man that is always getting into 
scrapes. Say, who found him out?” 

Solomon shook his head sagaciously, and 
said : 

“ Nobody found him out exactly. He sort 
of confessed it. You see, I was down by his 
big factory, and he was standing at the lower 
end looking sadder than he generally does, and 
everybody knows he looks mournful enough for 
two funerals. Well, I saw him, as I told you, 
and I said : ‘ Deacon, you look kind’er sorry. 
What’s the matter?” He just shook his head 
and said : ‘ Friend Whagg, I am in a scrape.’ 
I said: ‘You don’t tell me so, Deacon.’ He 
said: ‘Yes I do. I am in the biggest scrape 
there has been in Rockton for a very long 
time !’ ” 

The old man protested that if the deacon 
had n’t confessed to him he never would have 
believed it, and after repeated injunctions to 


A Tramp to “ Tramps' Roost.” 75 

tlie gossips in the window never to lisp a word 
to any one else, he stumped sadly away. 

Twenty-four hours later it was well-nigh all 
over the town, that the very biggest scandal in its 
history had occurred ; that Deacon Amos Brown 
had got into the worst possible scrape, and had 
intended to run away ; but being prevented in 
this, had fully confessed his guilt. Presently 
Solomon Wliagg was freely quoted as authority 
for the grave report. Of course, somebody 
ought to notice it, as Mr. Brown was a leading 
citizen and deacon of a down-town Church. 
At length a couple of his brethren called on 
him, and informed him of the serious reports in 
circulation. He looked sad, admitted that there 
was some truth in the story, and referred them 
to Solomon Whagg, who, he said, knew all about 
the matter, and had his permission to make it 
public. Of course they hunted up Solomon 
immediately. The hoary old mischief-maker 
laughed immoderately in the faces of his anx- 
ious questioners, and then proceeded to en- 
lighten them. 

“You see,” he said, “ I was down at the 
deacon’s factory, and he had the hind-side of 
it rigged with a stage, and was helping the 
men scrape it. He had it painted two years 
ago with mineral paint, and the pesky stuff 
blistered and peeled so badly, the whole of that 


7 6 


Rockton. 


side of the factory just had to be scraped before 
it could be painted again. I said : ‘ Deacon this 
is a big scrape.’ He said: ‘Yes, it is the big- 
gest scrape I ever knew in this town.’ I said : 
‘ I ’m going to tell Annis Crab you have got 
into a scrape.’ He said : ‘ If you do, it will be 
all over town in a week.’ So you see, we 
kind’er agreed that I should tell her, and see 
what would come of it.” 

Of course the town was convulsed. The 
joke was hugely enjoyed. When it was ex- 
plained, everybody remembered that Amos 
Brown, despite his diaconate, was the spberest, 
driest, most practical joker in town, and that 
Solomon Whagg was an inveterate likewise, 
and the deacon’s life-long crony and abettor. 
Had the yarn come direct to most people, it 
would have been received as a joke. Annis 
was the gull who swallowed the fishy story, 
and then squalled for foul weather. 

When Mr. Armour and the boys — no — when 
the boys and Mr. Armour reached the corner of 
the street on which Bernard Walters lived, they 
found that young gentleman philosophically 
dangling his heels from the top rail of a con- 
venient fence, and altogether ready to obey the 
order, “ Fall in.” He thanked Mr. Armour as 
he received the “ammunition” sent by Mr. 
Long, and as he hid it away in one pocket, he 


A Tramp to “ Tramps’ Roost.” 77 

gave him a knowing look, and tapped the 
pocket on the other side that bulged with the 
evidence of his forethought. “You’ll do,” was 
the silent note of the hazel eyes. 

It required but a few moments to reach the 
outskirts of the village. Leaving the highway, 
the party turned to the left through a wide 
reach of pasture-land that rose away to the east 
in swells until these broke into somewhat jagged 
peaks or crests. The general direction of these 
ridges was from north to south ; but when they 
had advanced towards them for perhaps a quar- 
ter of an hour, and had reached the top of the 
nearest, Mr. Armour directed the notice of the 
boys to an eccentric freak of nature — a shal- 
low ravine cut diagonally through the remain- 
ing crests, forming an almost level path for their 
feet. The sides of this ravine were quite steep, 
and plentifully covered with a short second- 
growth of pines. Along this delightful path 
they trudged, singing and shouting in honest, 
hearty, boyish glee, until it began to lead them 
downwards into a little oblong valley, well 
filled with a larger growth of forest-trees. At 
the south end was a small pond, with a narrow 
margin cleared of the larger growth. Into this 
valley they descended, and found an unobstructed 
way for their feet in an old “logging road” 
around the head, or north end of the pond. 


1 8 


Rock ton. 


Though there was a brisk wind outside, all was 
still in this quiet nook. The sun poured golden 
splendors into it, and a summer warmth filled 
it. As the boys chatted and approached the 
pond, a loud whi-r-r-r-r startled them as a par- 
tridge or grouse took wing from a clump of 
bushes, almost at their feet. Mr. Armour told 
them to watch sharply for the next. A few steps 
more, and Bernard, who was in front, stopped 
short and pointed ; but before his excited mates 
could really see where, whi-r-r-r-r, went the shy 
bird. All saw it on the wing. 

No ; if the truth must be told, not quite all. 
Benjamin was lagging a little behind unno- 
ticed, while the others were “ pointing ” game. 
When they, as the flush of their excitement cooled, 
turned to look for him the waning crescent of a 
ginger-cake suffered a total eclipse in his vora- 
cious mouth. 

Edward pulled off his hat, and declared he 
could creep into the bushes and catch a par- 
tridge in it. James started up the steep side of 
the valley, to find one, and, as usual, tumbled 
down — no ; this time it was up. Adolphus 
started through the bushes. His foot caught in 
a bull-brier, and he pitched head-first into a 
hole. While all these mishaps were happening 
Mr. Armour was walking along the logging- 
road, and was a few rods in advance. Suddenly 


A Tramp to “ Tramps' Roost." 79 

lie stopped ; then, turning back a few steps, lie 
called softly to the boys to make haste, but to 
be very still about it. While they were coming, 
he cut, with his pocket-knife, a sizable alder 
from a clump close by the road. This he was trim- 
ming carefully, when the boys gathered round 
him — full of questions, as a matter of course. 
Edward was anxious to know if he was “goin’ 
fishing.” He was told that possibly they might 
get a “ bush-eel,” whereat there were ten big 
eyes full of astonishment and wonder. 

When Mr. Armour had reduced his alder to 
a well-trimmed rod, about eight feet long, he 
told the boys to follow him without noise. Go- 
ing forward a little way he pointed to an open 
space beside the road where the ground was 
raised a bit, and where the sun’s rays were fall- 
ing full and warm. “01 O! O! O!” sounded 
from the throats of five startled boys. 

On this flat mound lay an enormous snake. 
It was not coiled up, but, as Bernard whispered, 
scattered round in kinks.” Evidently while 
it was sunning itself it was sleeping. After 
they had watched it for a few moments, Mr. 
Armour stepped swiftly to within a few feet of 
it, and brought his rod down in a quick, sharp 
stroke that changed a sleeping snake into a 
black, writhing, reptilian mass. Another sharp, 
well-directed cut of the rod, and the black folds 


8o 


Rockton. 


relaxed, and became still. Then, with the butt 
of his rod in a fold of the body, he drew it into 
the road. As he straightened it out in the 
path, he said: 

“The first blow broke its back, I think, and 
the last broke its neck.” 

Benjamin stared with big eyes at the scaly 
reptile for a while and asked : 

“ Is n’t it the biggest snake you ever saw?” 

“ It is the biggest I have seen to-day,” Mr. 
Armour replied, “ but I have seen larger at other 
times.” 

In answer to various other questions, he told 
them it was a black snake. That there were 
two varieties of the black snake, the difference 
between them so far as he knew, being mainly 
in the scales. He laid the rod which he 
had used beside the snake, and found it was 
some six inches the longest. He then said that 
if he only had a rule, he could tell the length 
of this one. Edward pulled a little ivory foot- 
rule out of his pocket, and offered its use. 

u See what comes of being a carpenter’s 
son,” said Mr. Armour, and proceeded to measure 
the stick, which proved to be seven feet eleven 
inches long. When this was done, he said : 
“You can tell your folks, if you feel you must 
brag a little, that you were in at the death 
of a snake full seven feet five inches long.” 


A Tramp to “ Tramps' Roost." 8i 

As they proceeded on their way around the 
pond, bearing to the south, every boy’s mind was 
full of, and his eyes were on the watch for, 
snakes. They learned the lesson that it is the 
unexpected that happens, while that which is 
much sought after, is seldom found. 

However, next to seeing snakes was hearing 
about them, and Mr. Armour had to meet a 
fusilade of questions from the squad. 

“ I have not met with many large snakes,” 
he said, “ but I have seen a few. I think most 
dictionaries and encyclopedias tell us that there 
is one species of black snake in this country 
five or six feet long, and another seven or eight. 
I do n’t know enough serpent lore to tell you 
which species the one just killed belongs to, 
but I killed two on the same day, and in the 
same spot, one of which was seven feet and a 
half long, the other more than eight feet and a 
half. I was walking with my father one even- 
ing when a boy, and a man came out of a pas- 
ture dragging the biggest I ever saw. How long 
he was I do not know. The man who had it 
was tall and large. He held it up on a stick. 
The stick was about as high as his shoulder, and 
the head and tail of the snake were on the 
ground. I know this man and father took one 
of the bars which had been let down for the 
cows to pass, and stretched the snake out beside 


82 


Rockton. 


it and the snake was the longest. It must have 
been more than ten feet long. The man who 
killed the snake is Alonzo Buell, the high sheriff 
of this county. I have heard my father tell of 
one that must have been still larger. He saw it 
more than twenty-nine years ago, for I was a 
six-months-old baby in mother’s arms. They were 
driving on the old turnpike that runs across the 
country about six miles north of where we are. 
I have heard my father tell the story many times. 
He said he looked ahead^, and saw a black snake 
lying across the road. . Its head was on the west 
side, and its body was stretched across both 
wheel ruts, and over the east side down into the 
gutter, but that he could not see its tail. He got 
out and looked for a club, but saw none. He 
did not dare to go for the snake with his whip. 
Mother was frightened and begged him to get 
into the wagon which he did, and whipped up 
the old horse to run over the snake if possible. 
When he got within some forty or fifty feet of 
it, it drew itself suddenly backwards, and went 
over the wall and across the field at a rapid rate 
with its head at least three feet high. I never 
knew my mother to tell an untruth or exaggerate, 
and I have several times heard her confirm this 
story of my father. He said he got out — after 
the snake had left, you understand — and paced 
from where the head lay to where he lost sight 


A Tramp to “Tramps* Roost.” 83 

of the body in the tall grass. He always insisted 
that this serpent was full fifteen, if not sixteen, 
feet long. I was fishing one day, and caught 
what you boys would call a pumpkin seed, I 
suppose, and tossed it back into the edge of 
some bushes, and a striped snake came squirm- 
ing along, and undertook to swallow it for din- 
ner. Down snakie’s throat went the tail and 
body of the fish, until the dorsal fin was reached. 
Then there was fun. The pumpkin seed flopped 
vigorously. The snake squirmed and thrashed. 
The meal was too big, or the eater too little. I 
tapped the last on the head, and pitched the first 
into the water. But let us drop snake yarns, and 
climb this hill. It will pay.” 

The road or path they had been following 
rose gradually from the valley, and wound along 
among the hills. On the right was a steep 
wooded eminence, evidently affording an outlook 
over a wide reach of country. Up this they 
scrambled, shouting and laughing — zigzagging 
their way when they could not ascend directly, 
and when ihey reached the summit, found a 
smooth ledge, shaded by pines, on which they 
clambered for an outlook. They had not real- 
ized how rapidly the path they had been follow- 
ing had ascended from the valley, or how high 
the hill they had been climbing. Once on its 
top, every boy shouted in sheer delight. Ben- 


8 4 


Rockton. 


jatnin said the whole world was below them, and 
cheered for all creation to hear. What oceans 
of woods stretching far away and around ! What 
a view of Rockton, with its great hives full of 
human ants, and its tiny bits of homes scattered 
all around ! How flat the Ridge looked, and what 
a mere chalk mark appeared Ridge Street ! 

“ It ’s a splendid view,” said Adolphus. 

“ I guess it is,” said Bernard, 

“ It’ll break our necks to get down,” said James. 

“ Let ’s sit down on this rock,” said Edward. 

“ Let ’s have something to eat,” said Ben- 
jamin. 

“ It ’s a unanimous vote,” said Mr. Armour. 
“ Let ’s at it at once.” 

And at it they all went with vigorous jaws, 
until nothing was left of Mr. Long’s generous 
treat, but the sheets of brown paper that had 
been wrapped around it. 

Content with themselves and all the world 
below, the various members of the little party 
lolled around in the sunshine, or wandered to 
various points of observation. Young Grant 
picked up, and carefully smoothed out the dis- 
carded wrappers, and went off by himself. As 
he sat at a distance well doubled up, the paper 
on his knee, and a stub of a pencil in his hand, 
Benjamin declared he was reckoning up the 
profits of the expedition. Whereat Bernard said, 


A Tramp to “Tramps* Roost.** 85 

he might be trying to reckon up how many mo- 
lasses cakes it would take to keep Bun in good 
condition on a week’s tramp. Not to be outdone, 
James suggested that he might be making a map 
of the route they had traveled. To this Edward 
rejoined, by shouting to the scribbling Adolphus 
to “ put in a big star to mark the spot where 
Chippy skinned his nose by tumbling up-hill.” 

So rippled the fun from center to circumfer- 
ence of this lofty lookout, until the suggestion 
of Mr. Armour, that it was “ about time to be 
jogging,” converged the scattered tramps around 
their “ head center.” 

Adolphus suggested that, in memory of the 
lunch and rest, the liill-top should ever after 
be known by the boys as “Tramps’ Roost” — a 
proposition which was declared to be “ carried 
unanimously” amid tumultuous applause. 

Bernard followed this very popular sugges- 
tion by another to the effect that the squad of 
tramps ought to provide a good name for its 
collective individuality. This set Edward off 
into a voluble description of a book his father 
bought him 011 his last birthday anniversary, 
which he described as “All about ‘the Up the 
Ladder Club,’ ” and affirmed to be “just 
bang-up.” 

Bernard’s eyes sparkled as he heard all this, 
and, sidling up to its owner, the little fellow 


86 


Rocktqn. 


asked for the loan of the book. Edward’s face 
lost something of its eager look as he mumbled 
something about being afraid it might get dirty 
or torn. Just at that moment Mr. Armour 
appeared to be looking towards Rockton, as if 
trying to learn something new of its geography, 
but all the while the hazel eyes were making 
notes. While the boys were still discussing 
Bernard’s suggestion, he sat down on the high- 
est point of rock, and said : 

“I believe I’m not quite ready. Sit down, 
all of you.” When each had disposed of him- 
self according to his inclination, and all were 
more or less reclined, he told them to look all 
around on the wonderful scene. “See,” he said, 
“how full of beauty and delight everything ap- 
pears to be.” Then he asked Edward, “Who 
made all these wonderful things?” 

“Why, God.” This in a somewhat offended 
tone, as if the question implied his ignorance. 

“What did God make all this for?” 

“For — for — folks, I s’pose.” 

“Exactly. Young man, when you think 
about this again, don’t think ‘God made 
things,’ and stop just there; but think ‘God 
made things for folks.’ And, Edward, I wish 
you to tell me who made the nice house I see 
away over there, on Ridge Street. The biggest 
one, I mean.” 


A Tramp to “Tramps* Roost.** 87 

“Why, you know, Mr. Armour. Father 
built it.” 

“Never mind what I know Who put all 
the nice things in it? And who pays for all the 
good things to eat?” 

“ Father.” 

“What does he do all this for?” 

“W-why, for mother an’ Sarah an’ me.” 

“Why does he do it?” 

“’Cause he loves us.” This very emphat- 
ically. 

“Why does he love you?” 

The boy wrinkled his forehead, as if per- 
plexed. Mr. Armour said: 

“Think it out, Edward,” and waited. 

At length the wrinkles smoothed, and 
Chumpy answered: 

“I guess it’s because he is a good man.” 

“There never was a more correct guess,” 
said Mr. Armour. “Now, I wish you all to re- 
member this catechism I have put Edward 
through, and apply it to what we began with. 
Did God make all we see?” Five boys nodded 
assent. “Did he make this for folks — for 11s?” 
Five heads bobbed again. “Did he make this 
for us because he loved us?” Still again five 
heads bowed. “Now think, as Edward did. 
Doesn’t he love us because he is good?” There 
was a deeper expression in each eye, and, as 


88 


Rockton ; 


once more five heads slowly nodded, the lips of 
each said, “Yes.” 

Mr. Armour sat awhile in silence, which the 
boys shared. At length he brought his eyes to 
bear on Edward, who saw another question in- 
evitable. 

“You say your father is a good man. He 
is; — one of the best. But suppose, Edward, 
that he let your mother, sister, and yourself live 
in a hovel, and wouldn’t earn bread, or fire, or 
clothes for you, nor do the smallest thing to 
make you comfortable and happy, — in such a 
case, what kind of a father would you think 
him to be?” 

The boy was growing defiant at the bare 
supposition; but he blurted out: 

“He’d be a mighty mean one.” 

“Why would he be mean?” 

“’Cause he woul.d. He ’d be stingy and lazy 
’nd ugly ’nd selfish!” 

“ Precisely. You are a bright boy, Edward. 
Now, tell me; if a father should do everything 
for his children, and fill all their lives with 
plenty and sunshine, and one of his boys should 
be stingy, wanting all the good things himself, 
and selfish, ready to take all he could get, and 
never wishing to do anything for others, what 
kind of a boy would you call him?” 

Now, Edward was, as Sarah once told him, 


A Tramp to “Tramps' Roost.” 89 

“a greedy little pig” in many things. It wa 
his one great fault to be selfish. To his credit 
it must be set down that he was an honest lit- 
tle fellow. He blushed a rosy red under his 
freckles, and it ran to hide itself under the roots 
of his hair; but he looked up bravely in Mr. 
Armour’s eyes and answered : 

“I guess he ’d be a mighty mean boy.” 

No comment direct followed this reply, but a 
few remarks were made by Mr. Armour on the 
whole matter. 

“You see, boys, just how it is. If a father 
loves his son, the son ought to love him in re- 
turn, and learn by this to love others. God is 
good. Because he is, he loves us. Because he 
loves us, he blesses us. We ought to love him 
in return. If we have his love in us, we will 
love him because he is good ; and we will love 
all his creatures, and try to do them good. 
This is just what the Golden Rule means, and 
this is just why we are taught to love one an- 
other. Now, I wish you to put one thing down 
in your minds, and never forget it. Selfishness 
is the meanest, wickedest thing in all the big 
universe. It is at the bottom of all sin, if it 
is n’t the sin itself. God is unselfish. If we 
are like him, we will be so too. The more un- 
selfish we are, the better we will be. The lec- 
ture is ended. I propose you break ranks for 
8 


90 


RoCKTOtf. 


two or three minutes, while I confer with Lieu- 
tenant Grant.” 

But the lecture was not quite ended. Ed- 
ward was seen walking away, with his arm over 
Bernard’s shoulder, and he was saying: 

“You ’ll like all about Sid and Charley ’nd 
Aunt Stanshy ’nd the rest. Father has promised 
to get the rest of the set, ’nd you shall have them 
when they come.” 



CHAPTER V. 

BUILDING A RUSTIC BRIDGE. 

^ | R. ARMOUR’S conference with young 



6- — Grant did not consume many mo- 
ments. When the boys drew together again, 
Edward called attention to Bernard’s sugges- 
tion, which had led them out into such a 
•T-wide field, and proposed that they come 
back to it. Said he : 

“ It won’t do for us to travel much further 
without a name.” 

Mr. Armour proposed that each should sug- 
gest a name in turn, until one should be found 
on which all could agree. He further proposed 
that the eldest should make the first suggestion, 
and so downward to the youngest. There be- 
ing no dissent, Adolphus was the first asked to 
propose a name. 

“ Merry Rangers,” said he. 

“Not much,” snorted Edward. 

“ Don’t like it,” followed James. 

“No; don’t I,” echoed Benjamin. 

“It’s pretty good,” assented Bernard. 

91 


92 


RocktoN. 


“ Now, Edward, it is your turn ; see if you 
can better it.” 

“ Lively Squad.” 

“ Pooh ! worse than mine,” avowed Adolphus. 

‘‘Next thing to squat,” laughed James. 

“Sounds flat,” criticised Benjamin. 

“It might do,” allowed Bernard. 

Then it was James’s turn. 

“ Happy Tramps,” he shouted. 

“ Tramps do n’t look happy,” disputed 
Adolphus. 

“Tramps steal,” charged Edward. 

“ Tramps are always hungry,” squeaked 
Benjamin. 

“ And want cold victuals,” put in Bernard. 

“Now, Master Benjamin, do your level best 
and name this concern,” said Mr. Armour. 
Benjamin was a little slow, for the other boys 
playfully suggested the names of various eatables 
he could use, and he said they “ put him out.” 

“ Five Scouts,” was his nomination. 

“ I scout that,” declared Adolphus. 

“Fiddlesticks,” derogated Edward. 

“ Won’t be one,” protested James. 

“It’s N. G.,” affirmed Bernard. 

“ Well, Bernard, it turns out that on your 
young shoulders [rest this heavy burden of re- 
sponsibility. I trust you are aware that our 
eyes are upon you. Give us a name odd 


Building a Rustic Bridge. 93 

enough, musical enough, and yet common 
enough to please us all.” 

This grandiloquent speech had well-nigh 
upset poor Bernard if he had not thought to 
look up into Mr. Armour’s eyes, and had not 
seen therein kindliness and encouragement. 
This helped him rally his courage, and he said : 

“If you can’t find anything better — as there 
are five of us boys, and we make some noise — 
we might call ourselves ‘The Jolly Quintet.’” 

“I ’ll agree to that,” assented Adolphus. 

“Best of all,” asseverated Edward. 

“ Better ’n none,” chirped James. 

“ Do n’t care what you call us, s’ long’s we ’re 
not called late to dinner,” very characteristically 
piped Benjamin. 

And so it was settled. To make sure the 
name was a good fit the boys sent up three 
lusty cheers and a tiger. Then Mr. Armour 
said he had discovered that Master Adolphus 
had been indulging his poetical fancies, and 
probably had made ‘ The Jolly Quintet ’ immortal 
in verse, and that he hoped his young friend 
would gratify all by reading what he had writ- 
ten. Adolphus, of course, blushed modestly as 
became so young a poet, and asked to be ex- 
cused five minutes until he could put the finish- 
ing touch to his lines, which the new name 
made necessary. At the end of that time he 


94 


Rockton. 


read from the luncheon-wrappers the following, 
which he had scribbled while the others were 
conversing : 

“WHO THEY WERE." 

BY ONE OF THEM. 

Six wonderful tramps 
Went on a spree, 

. And frightened a bird 
Under a tree. 

Now this jolly six, 

Which were three pair, 

Just made all the birds 
And rabbits stare. 

There was Chumpy ; he, 

Was awful fat, 

But tried to catch the 
Bird in his hat. 

There was Chippy ; he 
Seldom was still, 

And tumbled alike 
Down or up hill. 

There was Brick ; he was 
Still as a mouse, 

And had far the most 
Cake in his blouse. 

There was Bun ; he felt 
A hungry ache 

As long as he had 
A bit of cake. 

There was Dolly; he 
Was tall as a pole, 

But managed to get 
Dumped in a hole. 


Building a Rustic Bridge 95 

The sixth was a Mr. 

Armour by name, 

Who found the snake, and 
Finished the same. 

These were the six birds 
Of a feather ; 

Or tramps who traveled 
The woods together. 

In years to come, when 
Historians squint it, 

They ’ll write big things of 
The Jolly Quintet. 

This epic was punctuated by a round of ap- 
plause at the mention of each name, and at its 
conclusion received, as newpaper reports are 
apt to say, “vociferous applause.” 

The young poet both blushed and bowed his 
acknowledgments, and apologized for the dis- 
crepancy between the number six, which he had 
used nearly all the way through, and the quintet 
of the last line. He, however, saw no way to 
help himself. There were “six on the tramp,” 
and the boys had voted themselves a “ quintet.” 

Mr. Armour said : 

“ If posterity happens to discover the incon- 
gruity, it can set it down as a fine example of 
poetic lie- sense. In this prosaic present, we 
know it to be sober truth. But it is time for us 
to be on the trail. I am going to lead. L,et 
every boy look sharp !” 


96 


Rockton. 


This “Look sharp” was good advice, for 
they were led down the southeast side of the 
hill at a rattling pace, and the descent was steep. 
Lieutenant Grant reported that Janies distanced 
the rest, being helped along by several surprising 
tumbles. When they reached the bottom, their 
pace was not much slackened. All were well 
rested, and all eager to follow. Mr. Armour ap- 
peared to be familiar with the woods. Without 
stopping, and with only now and then a quick 
glance around, he decided his course. Taking 
advantage of natural formations, and avoiding 
thickets, in about ten minutes, rapid walking, the 
squad was drawn up around him in the country 
road that runs eastward from Rockton. He 
suggested that if they had already met with 
mild adventures enough to satisfy them they 
could easily march home in a short time. This, 
Edward vigorously scouted, affirming that he 
wasn’t “tired one bit,” and that the afternoon 
was n’t more than “ half gone.” The rest 
chorused a desire for more adventures if they 
could be had. Of this Mr. Armour was not 
quite sure. He said : 

“I have thought if we could reach a spot I 
know of that is, perhaps, a mile away, we could 
find some early spring flowers that would well 
pay us for the trouble.” 

“Jolly! if it ain’t but a mile, we can do that 


Building a Rustic Bridge. 97 

in no time,” commented Janies. “ I am afraid 
it will prove to be with ns as it was with a 
chap I heard of whose ‘ best girl ’ lived within 
half a mile of him, and yet was three milos 
away.” 

“ My ! how could that be?” asked Benjamin. 

“Easy enough,” replied Mr. Armour; “his 
girl lived across the river, and within a half 
mile, but he had to go up stream a mile and a 
half to find a bridge.” 

“ Pooh! why didn’t the goose take a boat?” 
put in Bernard. 

“For precisely the same reason that I am 
afraid will bring us to grief,” was the answer, 
“the want of a boat. There is a narrow strip of 
swampy land south of us, and quite long. Later 
in the season it is generally dry enough to cross, 
but I reckon we shall find it wet enough now.” 

“ We can do as that fellow did when he 
went to see his girl ; we can go round,” said 
Grant, sagely. 

“ Yes, we can ; but I judge we won’t ; at 
least not to-day. If we should try the west end, 
we would have rough land and tangled thickets, 
that would destroy all the pleasure of the walk. 
Then, if we should undertake to go round the 
east end, the swamp is broader, and we would 
have a good three miles’ scramble, and by the 
time we could reach the place I desire, it would 
9 


98 


Rockton. 


be too late to spend any time there, and get 
home before dark.” 

“Let’s wade through the swamp,” proposed 
Edward. 

“ I am afraid you would not find it as easy 
or safe as wading through a frog-pond to finish 
an African voyage.” 

This reply subdued Edward to a very solemn 
silence, and set James to snorting in a very ex- 
plosive way. 

If the faces of some of the boys showed ev- 
idence of disappointment, that of young Wal- 
ters wore a look of great confidence. 

“He’ll find a way,” he said, in an aside to 
Adolphus. 

This was not altogether misplaced confi- 
dence ; for the object of it straightened himself 
up, and said: 

“This isn’t quite the thing. Standing here 
doesn’t get us anywhere. Remember this: ir- 
resolution is a vice; decision of character is a 
virtue, in boy or man. Do n’t be pig-headed 
or selfishly obstinate; but be decided, and don’t 
waste time in debating whether it is best to be 
it. One thing more : be decided in your sports, 
and all little things as well as big. Edward, it 
is better for you to put this all down in your 
memory and act on it, than to find a crocodile 
or shoot a buffalo. The point with us now is 


Building a Rustic Bridge. 


99 


to get across tlie swamp. I think a straight 
line to the place I wish to reach would not 
oblige us to walk much over three-quarters of a 
mile. I happen to know that this swamp is 
really two swamps. There is a tongue of land 
that runs nearly across it. All we have to do is 
to go to the next bars, lay our course directly for 
this point, and get across if we can. If we find 
we can’t, we can do the next best thing, which 
probably will be honestly to own up we are 
beat, back out as gracefully as circumstances 
will allow, and get ourselves good-naturedly 
home. Come on!” 

It required but a moment to reach the bars. 
As they scrambled over and under and through, 
Adolphus expressed wonder that any one should 
take the trouble to build a wall or fence around 
such poor land. Mr. Armour, as usual, had a 
story to fit. He said: 

“I heard of a traveler who was riding along 
over a very poor strip of country, and came 
upon another man who was building a fence. 
He pulled up his horse, and said: ‘What, in the 
name of common sense, are you fencing that 
land for? Why, there is n’t a blade of grass 
growing on it, and there never will. Bless you ! 
if the cattle should get into it, they would starve 
to death.’ The other man squinted at the post 
he was setting, to see if it was plumb, and then 


IOO 


Rockton. 


replied: ‘Waal, stranger, thet’s jest it. I’m 
buildin’ this yer fence to keep ’em aout.’” 

This was a philosophical explanation, satis- 
factory to all the boys, and they laughingly fol- 
lowed the swift steps of their leader, who was 
taking a bee-line for the point of land he had 
described. Evidently he was familiar with the 
way, and the boys, who were following in single 
file, had nothing to do but follow. This must 
be slightly qualified ; for Janies, overflowing 
with customary eagerness, not only had to fol- 
low, but several times had to pick himself out 
of the bushes into which he inadvertently 
tumbled. The rapid pace and the unevenness 
of the ground tried Edward’s wind, but he held 
on good-naturedly until Mr. Armour’s cheery, 
“ Here we are,” brought a respite. 

It required but a glance for each boy to see 
how accurate was the knowledge of their leader 
in regard to the route he had chosen. The 
strip of high land was thrust almost across the 
swamp. Indeed, from its extreme, it was ap- 
parently not more than ten feet to the other 
side, which was an abrupt bank on which were 
growing a few hemlocks. It did look to the eager 
boys as though they could jump the little space. 
Adolphus offered to try it while Edward re- 
newed his suggestion to wade across. Mr. Ar- 
mour refused to allow either attempt to be made, 


Building a Rustic Bridge. 


ioi 


telling them that while he had generally found 
it dry enough at this point to cross, the amount 
of water then in the swamp rendered it impos- 
sible; that, what might be a soil dry enough 
in a short time to bear the weight of a person, 
was then only an oozy mire, several feet deep, 
and if either got stuck in it, it would be well- 
nigh impossible to get out. 

“I gave you,” he said, “back in the road, a 
lecture on decision. Now open your ears for 
another. Always keep your wits about you. 
Like Barnaby Rudge’s raven Grip, ‘ never say 
die.’ If you get in a corner, do n’t be confused. 
Do n’t try to think of forty things all at once. 
This would be confusion in itself. Think of one 
way out. If that way appears to be no way, 
then try another. Think of one thing at a time 
until you think of the right thing. Now, here 
we are, with at least ten feet of water, and very 
soft mud between us, and a steep bank we wish 
to reach. What shall we do ? Shall we back 
out ?” 

“No,” answered every nonplused boy. 

“ Having settled it as the first thing that we 
won’t give it up, the next thing in order is — 
what ? Who can tell ? 

“ Get across, of course,” volunteered James. 

“ But is getting across the first thing ?” 

“ ’Course it ain’t,” replied Edward. “ The 


102 


Rockton. 


first thing is to make a bridge, and then we can 
get across just as easy as nothing.” 

“ Suppose, then, we all agree with Edward, 
and consider it settled that the next thing we 
are to do is to build a bridge,” said Mr. Ar- 
mour. “ Then the next thing to determine is 
what kind of a bridge. If it is to be a single 
arch, then we must have plenty of stone, out of 
which we can build our piers. Shall it be of 
trestle work? or a .suspension bridge? or what? 
Besides, who is the smart chap on whom we can 
rely to build the other end?” 

There were ten dubiously lighted eyes that sent 
wandering glances up and down, and all around. 
There were a pair of hazel eyes also, glancing 
around ; but these were full of mirthfulness. At 
length their owner said : 

“Adolphus, can’t you help us out of this 
scrape?” 

“ N-no, sir ; unless we can build a monkey 
bridge.” 

There was a still more roguish gleam in 
Mr. Armour’s eyes, as he asked : 

“ Do you mean to intimate that there is 
plenty of material for such a bridge at hand?” 

Edward and James pretended to be very in- 
dignant with Adolphus for calling them monkeys, 
and fell to scolding him at a furious rate, he all 
the while protesting his innocence. Benjamin 


Building a Rustic Bridge . 103 

took no part in this diversion, but was hunting 
his pockets for a stray bit of cake, while Mr. 
Armour and Bernard were enjoying the fun 
hugely. Finally the latter came to the rescue, 
and said: 

“ Do n’t jaw him any longer. If he wants a 
monkey bridge, let ’s lay him across the mud as far 
as he will reach, and then we can jump the rest.” 

Mr. Armour thought best to interfere at this 
point. 

“ I am thinking, Adolphus, that you will 
have to pray, as a friend of mine said, he was 
obliged to pray, to be delivered from your friends. 
The only way out for you that I can see, is to 
tell us what you meant by a monkey bridge.” 

Bernard promised that if he would do this 
he should not be used for a stringer. Thus as- 
sured Adolphus, explained. 

“ I read in a book of travels that monkeys 
make bridges of themselves when they want to 
cross small rivers. A monkey will run up a 
tree and hold on to a high branch with his tail 
and hind feet ; then another will climb the tree 
and get hold of the other in the same way ; and 
they will keep on until they have a chain of 
monkeys hanging from the branch. Then they 
will manage to swing back and forth until the 
lower end swings across the stream, when the 
end monkey catches hold of something, and the 


104 Rockton. 

bridge is made. All the rest of them have to 
do is to run up the tree and down the chain of 
monkeys, and so get across.” 

“ Tell your granny such a lie,” shouted 
Edward. “ How are the monkeys in the bridge 
to get over?” 

All laughed at this sally ; but Master Grant 
was equal to the emergency. “I do n’t know 
anything about it. I ’in only telling you what 
the book said. It had a picture of a string of 
monkeys hanging from the upper branch of a 
tree on one side of a river, and stretched across 
it to the lower branch of a tree on the other 
side. The book also said that, when all the 
monkeys, except those on the bridge were over, 
that a big monkey would let the one at the lower 
end of the bridge get hold of him and then he 
would run up the tree to the top and get hold of 
a limb there. Then the other end would let go 
and swing over. Then they could take their 
bridge to pieces in the same way they made it.” 

When he was done, Bernard chuckled and 
said : “ Well, if we are monkeys, we have n’t got 
tails. So your scheme is n. g.” 

This was so self-evident as to need no reply. 
The boys looked at Mr. Armour as if to ask, 
“What next?” To this unspoken question he 
replied : 

“If we can’t build a monkey bridge, Adol- 


Building A Rustic Bridge. 105 

phus’s description suggests something. We might 
prove the theory that men are descended from 
monkeys, by our power of imitation Suppos- 
now there was a tall white birch right here, why 
could n’t one of us climb it, and bend it down, 
and then we all get hold and give it a swing 
across to the other side, would n’t it be as good 
as a monkey bridge?” 

► “ ’Course it would,” affirmed Edward, ap- 

provingly. 

“ Let ’s do it,” said James, staring around 
resolutely. 

‘‘Agreed,” replied Mr Armour; “but won’t 
you please put your hand on the particular birch 
you think best adapted to be our bridge.” 

“ Whew !” ejaculated the boy, and then 
puckered his lips drolly, and blew a long, shrill 
whistle that gave further expression to his blank 
amazement. Mr. Armour laughed, for he had 
caught them all with his supposititious tree. 
There was not a white birch in sight on their side 
of the swamp, though they could discern the 
graceful shape of several on the higher land on 
the other side. 

Young Grant evidently was making a prac- 
tical use of the lecture on thinking, for he 
asked : 

“ If there is no birch can ’t we make some 
other tree do?” 


io6 


Rockton. 


11 Perhaps not as well,” was the reply : 
il Still, another kind of tree would do, if we 
could use it. There stands one that, if my eyes 
don’t deceive me, is long enough to reach 
across. What if we should try to bend it 
down ?” 

“ It ’s too big ” — “ too stiff ” — “ we can ’t,” 
were the answers. 

“ Never mind about all that,” he went on. 
“ Suppose we try. Who ’ll volunteer to shin it?” 

Four of the boys glanced dubiously up into 
the tree, but not a young hero stirred or looked 
as heroes are supposed to do. Bernard alone 
surveyed the natural ladder complacently, as he 
said : 

“ I could climb the thing easy enough, but 
I could n’t bend it* any more than a crow could 
by lighting on it.” Considering his size this was 
pretty fair judgment. 

“Aren’t you afraid to climb it?” asked Mr. 
Armour. 

“ No,” answered the boy, “ I ’ve climbed 
bigger ones than that.” 

“ Well, Adolphus, you are larger and stronger 
than Bernard — can ’t you climb it for us?” 

Adolphus grew rosy, and gazed at the tree 
intently for a moment. Then he grew rosier 
and shook his head. 

“ Afraid ?” 


Building a Rustic Bridge . 107 

“ I — I guess I am,” he replied, a little 
faintly. 

“ Good for you,” said Mr. Armour, as he put 
his hand on the lad’s shoulder: “ I ’m afraid to 
risk my bones too ! Catch me climbing trees 
when I can get along without it. Catch me 
taking any risks when there is no need. When 
I was a youngster I could climb almost any- 
where. I had a light body, and strong hands 
and arms. No matter how high up I went I 
never grew dizzy, or was in the least frightened. 
But I went down South, and had while there 
the swamp fever, and since that I have been 
dizzy if I went up very far. I ’m not a bit 
ashamed to say I am afraid. I dislike very 
much to ride in elevators. I always feel queer 
if I am in the upper stories of a tall building. 
It is no special credit to Bernard that he can 
climb that tree. He could do it safely prob- 
ably. It is no discredit to the rest of us that 
we have no inclination to try it. Listen, my 
young friends, to another important lecture. 
The theme is True Courage. Courage is not 
to face danger because it is danger, but because 
it is duty. It is not courage for a boy or man 
to do a risky or dangerous thing simply be- 
cause it is such, or he is dared to do it. To 
do this is the opposite of courageousness, and 
and is rightly called foolhardiness. One ought 


108 Rockton. 

to be afraid to hazard life or limb unneces- 
sarily. Rather than a weakness, it is a virtue. 
The true hero is neither bully nor fool. Keep 
out of danger if you can ; but when it ought to 
be faced, then face it the best you can. I 
heard, years ago, a story of two officers who 
were riding side by side into a battle. One 
was very jolly and unconcerned, the other was 
very quiet. The jolly fellow looked up into 
the other’s face, and saw it was white. He 
felt indignaut at him for what he thought his 
cowardice, and said: ‘ You ’re scared.’ ‘Yes,’ 
said the other, ‘ I am scared. If you were half 
as scared as I am you would run;’ which was 
probably the truth. True courage is not to be 
fearless of, or insensible to danger. I am in- 
clined to think that real heroes have always 
been capable of fear. They have been more 
courageous because of it. Be afraid of many 
things. Be afraid of getting hurt when there is 
no need! Be afraid of doing a mean or selfish 
thing! Be terribly afraid of anything low or 
wicked ! The lecture is ended. ‘ Attention, 
Company!’ We must build not a monkey bridge, 
but a bridge for Darwin’s children of monkeys, 
in five minutes. Follow as fast as you can, 
and work like beavers.” 

He led the way rapidly to a clump of 
alders, and with his stout-bladed pocket knife 


Building a Rustic Bridge. 109 

began to cut them down, telling the boys to 
carry them to where they were to bridge the 
bog. He worked until each had a load, and 
then followed what he called his “ long brush ” 
to lay it across the narrow strip of oozy mud. 
It required but a few moments to do this, and 
then he stepped back a few paces — enough to 
give him a short run, and allow him to jump 
to the other side ; a not very remarkable feat, 
but one that excited the admiration of the boys. 
He pulled himself up the bank, and cut a few 
armfuls of boughs from a drooping hemlock. 
These he cast down the bank, and following 
them began to lay them across the alders, trusting 
his weight upon them until he had made the 
whole length safe. The bridge was a fact. It 
was rustic and safe. It was the work of but a 
few moments. The Jolly Quintet went over dry 
shod. 



CHAPTER VI. 

SPRING BEAUTIES IN BLOOM. 

I T did not require long for The Quintet to 
scramble up the bank after the long legs 



of their leader. As they paused for a mo- 
ment to recover breath under the hemlocks, 
Bernard, who had kept close to Mr. Armour 
A all the while, looked up shyly, and said : 

“ I guess you knew all the while how we 
could get over.” 

“ Young man,” was the reply, “are you try- 
ing to make me convict myself of playing 
rogue ?” Then seeing that the boy’s eyes shot 
out an indignant denial of this counter-charge, 
he continued: “ No, I did not have any partic- 
ular way in mind. I felt confident that there 
would be some way. I only thought that it 
might prove a good opportunity to teach you 
boys to think when you are in a corner instead 
of getting muddled. It was n’t much of a lesson 
or much of an emergency. Perhaps this was all 


Spping Beauties in Bloom. hi 

the better. It is a good way to begin with small 
things, and by them learn to manage larger 
things. The alder bridge was only one thing I 
thought of while we were chatting and plan- 
ning. I took that because it gave all something 
to do.” 

“What other way was there?” asked 
Chumpy. 

Mr. Armour pointed to what had been a 
small tree, but having been uprooted, it had lain 
where it fell until most of the branches, and 
part of the top had rotted away. 

“There,” said he, “is a bridge ready made. 
Probably we wouldn’t have to go far to find 
others. My first thought when I found there 
was too much mud for you to jump, was to 
jump over myself, and find something like that 
half-rotten tree, and drag it along for you to use 
as a bridge. I ’ll warrant we could devise 
another way if there was any need.” 

“ ’Course we could,” chimed in Edward. 
“Just see there” — pointing to four thin, flat 
stones that looked like layers split from a seamy 
ledge. “ I could take and lay one out about two 
feet from the edge, step on it, and lay down 
another about as far off. The four of ’em would 
let me go across.” 

“You make me think of Pomp’s conun- 
drum,” responded Mr. Armour. “ He asked, 


1 12 


Rockton. 


Sambo, ‘ How ’am it dat de squirr’l dig be bole, 
an’ he doan’d leab no dirt round de outsides?’ 
Sambo gave it up, and Pomp told him be man- 
aged it by beginning at the other end. ‘ How ’s 
him git dar?’ Sambo asked. Pomp shook his 
head solemnly, and answered : ‘ Dar’s de mis- 

ery, Sambo, dar’s de mist’ry.’ Here are flat 
stones enough to build Edward’s bridge, but 
how could he have got across to get the 
stones?” 

The boy was equal to this emergency for he 
replied : 

“ I took you along to do that.” 

This greatly amused Mr. Armour who told 
the boys that he thought he owed them a treat, 
and asked them which they would have, “berries 
or water.” 

“ Say berries, boys,” Benjamin eagerly im- 
plored — which they did. 

“ I guess you will cry louder for water after 
you get the berries,” prophesied Mr. Armour, 
as he led the way to a small clearing where 
the wintergreen was plentiful, the red berries 
peeping from under the waxy green leaves. 
“ Fall to, now, and help yourselves as fast as 
possible, for, like an extra fast express, we only 
stop five minutes for this kind of refreshment.” 

Then began a hasty scrambling during which 
the purveyor of the pleasure gave himself up to 


Spring Beauties in Bloom . 


113 


the enjoyment of the scene. The afternoon air 
was delightfully warm. The west wind was 
slightly swaying the tree-tops, and with its 
gentle breath prevented oppressive heat. The 
sun was thrusting long, slant bars of light 
through the trees that already were beginning 
to deck themselves with tender foliage. There 
were a thousand odors blending together to fill 
with incense the “ templed grove.” The songs 
of birds were not wanting to add melody to 
beauty. There was a sound of life all around 
as if the world were awaking from sleep to 
general activity. The listening ear caught the 
faint hum and drone of insects amid louder 
and shriller sounds. From a tree-top a thrush 
sent forth a song of praise, singing in spring- 
time joy as only a thrush can sing. But the 
sun’s rays were far too level for extended enjoy- 
ment of what grew more delightful with every 
moment. The warning “Time’s up!” called the 
boys to resume their walk. 

“ They are awful thick, ain’t they?” Edward 
affirmed, and asked in the same breath. To this 
Mr. Armour replied : 

“ They are pretty plenty for this region.” 

“Did you ever see them thicker?” inquired 
Benjamin. 

“ Yes,” was the answer. “ Several times I 
have seen them in great abundance. I was 

10 


Rockton. 


1 14 

taking a short vacation, some years ago, in the 
eastern part of Maine. The youngest son of the 
gentleman with whom I was staying found out 
I enjoyed fishing, and proposed to take me back 
into the woods a dozen or fifteen miles, where, 
he said, I could catch plenty of trout. I had a 
magnificent ride over a grass-grown country 
road, and found the stream, but I did n’t find 
any trout. Nothing bit but the flies. I whipped 
the water until I was disgusted, and then 
reeled up my line, took my rod apart, and said 
I had all the fishing I wished. My young friend 
went to the wagon and brought out some boxes 
that proved to be packed with eatables. We 
took an hour for that dinner, and it was one of 
the very best I ever ate. The boxes, that were 
full when we began, were nearly empty, while 
the men that were empty when we began, felt 
more than full when we were done. Indeed, 
the reason we were done was because we were 
so very full. Then we lolled back in the sun, 
and I took a short nap. When I woke up I 
thought I would look around a bit. I presume 
there was n’t a house within half-a-dozen miles 
at the least. The land had been cleared — that 
is, the timber had been cut off. There was a 
very small and very straggling second growth. 
Not a hundred yards from where we ate our 
dinner I found a strip of land fairly red with 


Spring Beauties in Bloom. 115 

wintergreen berries. Every little stalk appeared 
to be heavy with them. I called my friend to 
bring the boxes, and we went to work and picked 
for a quarter of an hour, possibly a little longer, 
until it occurred to me that there was nothing 
they could be used for — ” 

“ Couldn’t you eat them?” interrupted Ben- 
jamin. 

“O yes, and I could eat dry peas, and for a 
steady diet I think I should much prefer them 
to the berries. I asked the young man if he 
knew anything that could be done with them. 
He said they might be fed to the hens, but was 
suspicious that this might prove fatal to them. 
But I told him it would never do to spend a 
day fishing, and carry nothing home, so he put 
the boxes in the wagon. How the girls laughed 
when we got back — and jolly, healthy, whole- 
some, sensible girls they were too — to see those 
red berries! They said they believed they never 
had seen so many in all their lives. They were 
not little red bits, about the size of bird-shot. A 
large part of them were as big as medium-sized 
cranberries. One of the girls got a half-peck 
measure, and emptied our boxes into it, and it was 
heaping full. They kept them for a day or two, 
and showed them to the neighbors when they 
called; but what they did with them after that I 
never knew. But let ’s be moving.” 


n6 


Rockton. 


11 1 hope it will be water,” said Benjamin ; 
“ I ’in dry as a fish.” 

“ If I remember, you are the boy who voted 
unanimously for berries.” 

“ Yes, sir, I ’ve got them, too ; and now I want 
to give them a soaking.” 

He was promised a chance to test his power 
of absorption, when he should have gone a little 
further, which assurance was equally grateful to 
all the boys. Edward was for stripping off his 
jacket he was so warm. Mr. Armour vetoed 
this, but remarked that looser garments were 
preferable in vigorous exercise or on long 
tramps. This started the chubby fellow on a 
new line. With characteristic energy he urged 
that The Jolly Quintet, having a peculiar name, 
ought by all means to provide itself with a suit- 
able dress to be its ornament and distinction, 
when, as he said, “ Instead of being just boys, 
we are a Quintet.” This rather incoherent 
speech, or rather the dress it was intended to 
advocate, received the hearty approval of three 
of the boys, Bernard only remaining silent. 
Mr. Armour, with one of his queer smiles, no- 
ticed a double expression on his face. There 
certainly was a look of approval ; but over this 
was spread a dubious shadow quite droll to see. 

Bernard Walters was a manly little fellow, 
and loved his mother, and this all the more 


Spring Beauties in Bloom. ii 7 

that she was poor and worked hard to care for 
him and a younger sister. Mrs. Walters was 
a quiet, sweet-faced woman, who lived in a 
bit of a cottage in Northville. She was com- 
paratively a new-comer. Her history has noth- 
ing romantic or strange in it. An elder brother 
and herself had been left orphans when quite 
young, and had been cared for by a maiden 
aunt. Her brother chose to follow the sea, and 
she, when her aunt died, leaving her at the age 
of twenty-three years, married a young man ol 
estimable character, an orphan like herself, but 
of not very robust health. The attachment be- 
tween the brother and sister was very strong, 
and he insisted that the newly married couple 
should remove to the vicinity of New York City, 
where he could make his home with them when 
on shore. He claimed that this was their duty, 
as he never intended to marry. He did more 
than urge. He found a small business, just 
suited to his brother-in-law’s taste and strength, 
and bought out the proprietor. He prepared a 
snug little home, and then extended the young 
people’s honeymoon by going after them, and 
bringing them, bag and baggage to it. Here 
they lived for years. Bernard, named for his 
uncle, was born, and grew to be a lively little 
fellow, nearly ten years of age. Carrie, his 
blue-eyed sister, was nearly four years younger. 


n8 


Rockton , ; 


Captain Cherington having assumed com- 
mand of a very large ship, planned an extended 
voyage. Hardly had he sailed when a fire broke 
out in a neighbor’s house, and Mr. Walters 
overtaxed himself in helping clear it. The 
sickness which followed was too much for his 
frail constitution, and in two months he was 
dead. Mrs. Walters was fever-stricken, and for 
weeks was very ill. When she could leave her 
bed, she found her affairs were not very pros- 
perous. Heavy expenses had been incurred, the 
business had suffered for want of attention, and 
the lease of the house in which she lived was 
nearly expired. 

During all this time she heard nothing from 
her brother. At length she was forced to sell 
the business, and when she had paid all her 
debts, she found that she had comparatively but a 
small amount of money left. She waited in 
vain to hear from Captain Cherington. At 
length, as she came fully to face the fact that 
she must find means to support herself and 
children, she determined to return to her early 
home, thinking that perhaps she might find it 
less expensive living, and could more readily 
obtain work. 

A lady in the train on which she traveled 
had a sick child. She insisted on caring for it, 
while the wearied mother rested. The result of 


Spring Beauties in Bloom. 119 

this, very naturally, was womanly exchange of 
confidences. Mrs. Avery fell in love with the 
sweet-faced little widow, and insisted that Rock- 
ton would be just the place for her to find a 
home. Indeed, she confided to her new friend 
that Mr. Avery had a small cottage that would 
be “just the thing,” and he — strange inconsist- 
ency — thought so little of it that he would sell 
it, she was sure, at a very low price. This ex- 
plains why Mrs. Walters was living in a very 
cozy and very little cottage on Linden Street, 
in the eastern part of the Northville portion of 
Rock ton. 

Somehow she had even more than enough 
money to buy it, and could put in the bank a 
few hundred in case a “rainy day” should 
come; although it must be evident to all who 
have read this short history that she had already 
had her share of aqueous weather. 

When she took possession of her new home 
she undertook fine sewing as a means of sup- 
port, but in a little while she discovered that 
there was more money and less “wear and tear” 
in the wash-tub. She w^s a sensible woman. 
She wanted all the money she could earn, and 
she wished to do it as easily as possible. Hence 
it is to be set down to her credit that she be- 
came a washerwoman and laundress. Hence, 
also, it happened that while Bernard had plenty 


120 


Rockton. 


to eat and serviceable clothes, he had to work 
as well as play, and had but little money for fun. 

Perhaps all this veritable history passed 
through Mr. Armour’s mind as he listened to 
the chat of the boys and watched Bernard’s face 
as he trudged silently along; then again, possi- 
bly not. All the same, he was a large-hearted 
man. Every reader must have long ago discov- 
ered this. “Quick-witted, too.” Yes, more than 
this, he was sharp-witted. His answer to the 
urgent questions of Edward and others shows 
this. He said : 

“You have started something I shall want 
to think over. You know the old man who 
wanted the boy to cry ‘Boo!’ to the colt he was 
breaking, and got tumbled off, complained that 
it was ‘too big a boo for so small a colt.’ We 
do n’t want them making fun of ns. I ’ll tell 
you what I will do. Some time next week I 
shall be down town. I’ll have Bernard meet 
me, and I will use him to try things on. If I 
can find what I want, I ’ll dress him up ; and 
then, if you all like the style, you can copy it. 
If I don’t find what suits me, I will order to 
my notion, and of a size that will fit Bernard. 
I wish you to see just how everything looks be- 
fore you adopt it. Bernard shall be my lay 
figure; and I ’ll appoint him my orderly, to carry 
my hatchet, or anything else I may choose. To 


Spring Beauties in Bloom. 12 i 

pay him for all the work he will have to 
do, I shall let him keep the samples — that 
is, if you go in for them when you see them. 
If—” 

Seldom is a subject so abruptly dropped. 
Benjamin let out a blood-curdling screech, and 
sprang ahead as if shot from a catapult. Great 
was the merriment when the frightened boy con- 
fessed that he thought a snake was after him. 
Eager to hear all Mr. Armour said, he had dis- 
turbed a long crooked stick, that lay under the 
bushes and leaves in such a way as to suggest 
to his ear and eye a big snake. Adolphus told 
him it was men with the delirium tremens that 
were in the habit of “ seeing snakes.” What- 
ever more of fun might have arisen from this 
little scare it is impossible to say, for at that 
moment the busy eyes of Mr. Armour made a 
discovery which proved a diversion, although it 
was somewhat in the line of young Grant’s re- 
mark. In a hollow place, under a decaying 
stump, were three flat pint-bottles of very dark 
green glass. Bernard suggested that they should 
be smashed. Adolphus, who was rather bookish 
for his years — which fact, by the way, was far 
from being to his discredit — put in as a counter- 
suggestion that they leave them for the discov- 
ery and astonishment of later generations, who 
in their superior knowledge, might imagine that 
11 


122 


Rockton. 


they had found relics of the pre-Adamite age. 
To this Mr. Armour responded: 

“ They are in a sense this now. If Adam 
and Eve were tempted by Satan, he surely 
must have been a pre-Adamite hater of our race. 
The wine-cup is rightly called, ‘ the cup of 
devils.’ Alcohol is the most fatal agent Satan 
employs. In this sense these whisky-flasks are 
relics of the work of pre- Adamite evil. Think 
of human beings guzzling such stuff ! I heard 
a man talking to some boys and girls at a tem- 
perance-meeting in a country town. He said 
very many bright things I have forgotten, but 
one I specially remember because it was so apt. 
He stopped short, and was silent for a moment, 
which was a very good way to get attention. 
Then he asked : ‘ Children, do you know how 

a farmer can have a big, fat hog?’ Every child 
pricked up his ears, and every farmer in the 
audience besides. ‘Who will tell me?’ was his 
next question. The big boys were shy, and hung 
down their heads, but a little girl squeaked out 
‘I know, Mister.’ ‘All right,’ he said, ‘you tell 
us, my dear.’ ‘ Well,’ answered the feminine 
mite, ‘ yo dit a ’ittle, weeny teenty pid, and dust 
dive it all it will eat, and it will drow a bid hod 
its own ‘self.’ How the hard-headed farmers 
roared and stamped ! The old town hall fairly 
shook. Everybody saw the point. There is to 


Spring Beauties in Bloom ; 123 

me something very swinish about drunkenness. 
Some vices seem to require brains ; none are 
needed for the development of the drink vice. 
If you wish to be clean, sensible, true men, be 
teetotalers all your days.” 

“I wonder where temperance people got 
that word,” said Adolphus. “ I heard somebody 
say that he saw in a paper that they got the 
word because some people would n’t drink any- 
thing stronger than tea — so they were called 
tea- totalers. Is that so Mr. Armour?” 

“No,” was the reply; “I heard Mr. Gough 
say that it originated at a meeting in Preston, 
at which Mr. Joseph Livesey presided. A man 
named Dickey Turner said: “Mr. Chairman, I 
finds as how the lads gets drunk on ale and 
cider, and we can ’t keep ’em sober unless we 
have the pledge total ; yes, Mr. Chairman, 
tee-tee- total. ’ ‘Well done, Dickey,’ said Mr. 
Livesey, ‘ we will have it teetotal.’ This must be 
correct, for Webster says the word was formed 
‘ by reduplicating for the sake of emphasis 
the initial letter of the adjective total.'' But 
this will do for the present — lectures must never 
be too long. The next thing in order will be 
the spring.” 

By this time The Quintet had followed its 
leader up a gradual ascent to the top of a high 
strip of land which lifted itself, bluff-like, above 


124 


Rockton. 


diverging gorges and ravines on the east. After 
allowing a moment’s pause to admire the view, 
he said : 

“There was a spring under this cliff last 
year, and must be now, unless Dame Nature, 
in a fit of spleen, has dried it up. I ’ll explore 
a bit and report.” 

Descending rapidly by points of the ledge 
that cropped out on the precipitous face of the 
cliff, he was not long in gaining a level plat or 
shelf, supporting a deeper soil, where the abun- 
dance and greenness of the grass was evi- 
dence of a corresponding abundance of warmth 
and moisture. His cheery shout, “Here it is!” 
was precisely what might be expected as the 
result of his search. Directing the boys to 
move along the summit a little way towards 
the southwest where the descent could more 
easily be made, he watched them as they 
scrambled — no, this is a mistake ; to scramble is 
to go up — he watched them as they dangled, 
slipped, slid, dropped, and eased themselves 
down. This omnifarious feat was accomplished 
with safety by all, except James Mears. He, 
with characteristic persistency in blundering, 
very nearly brought himself to grief. It was a 
close shave for the young shaver. When the 
proper path fo; descent had been indicated, this 
headlong youngste^, with his usual precipitancy. 


Spring Beauties in Bloom ; 125 

made a dive for the face of the little precipice, 
with a reckless boast that he would be first 
down. Immediately there was some loosened 
dirt, and stones, and more boy — there were legs 
and arms enough for half a dozen boys — in a 
squalling pigmy avalanche that brought up in a 
clump of bushes, where it stuck fast, and kicked, 
and hung suspended, and squealed. The slow- 
but-sure way was altogether the quickest, if not 
the shortest, and all the other boys were down 
(safely as has been said) before downfallen, 
crestfallen, and dirty James had extricated 
himself frcm the really friendly bushes which 
had received his downfalling body with liter- 
ally outstretched arms. He had lost his cap ? 
his jacket was half-way over his head, his face 
wore a sorry, disappointed look, and he was 
feeling himself over as if counting the various 
parts of his anatomy to discover which of them 
might be missing or broken. Bernard picked 
up his cap and clapped it on his confused little 
head ; Adolphus pulled down his jacket. Ed- 
ward fell to dusting him off; while Benjamin 
sympathetically tendered him the solace of 
the remnant of a cake which he, in a fit of gen- 
erosity, had borrowed from the remnants of 
Bernard’s luncheon. 

Mr. Armour was laughing ; if it was wrong, 
the fact must not be disguised. It was something 


126 


Rockton. 


of a dangerous tumble , but, then, it was so 
comical ! And poor James stood witli such a 
woe-begone droop in his body ! and there was 
such a look on his face ! Half-mournful, half- 
tickled, half-hurt — how many halves is this ? — 
half-vexed and half-ashamed, while over all was 
a silly, serious, apprehensive and imploring 
“ I ’m a little donkey, but do u’t-tell-on-me- 
p-l-e-a-s-e ” expression that was altogether 
“ too funny for anything.” If it was wrong, as 
a matter of sentiment, for Mr. Armour to laugh, 
as a matter of feeling and fact he could n’t help 
it. Why, a wooden man would have laughed 
could he have seen the fun. This being so, our 
tall friend must be absolved. At any rate he 
laughed. Then he sat down on a big stone, and 
laughed some more. When the original boy, 
who had been lost to sight in the heedless ca- 
tastrophe, was at least partially restored, he said : 

u James, you make me think of a man who 
slipped at the top of a long flight of hotel stairs, 
and bumped all the way to the bottom. The 
clerk, porter, and all hands started to help him ; 
but he looked up at them with a face as solemn 
as a grave-stone, and said : ‘ Did n’t I do it 
slick ? That ’s the way I always come down 
stairs.’ ” 

James grinned — a little sheepishly, it must 
be admitted — and then all “ made tracks ” for 


Spring * Be a uties in Bloom. 127 

the spring, which was in a little basin under the 
shelter of a slanting rock. By this time Ben- 
jamin’s berries had been eaten long enough 
really to need a soaking. When all were sat- 
isfied, Mr. Armour led them around under the 
cliff a little further, and pointed down into a 
ravine of considerable extent, and told them 
that the water from the spring found its way 
into it, when, with water added from other springs, 
it became a small brook. Into this ravine he 
proposed to descend, and in it, to spend a short 
time before returning home. Before this was 
done he said: 

“My dear young friends, hear words of wis- 
dom. When you undertake anything, be sure 
you know how to do it. Always find out the 
best way. Now, if we find spring flowers, we 
must get them home fresh and bright. Most 
people, when they gather them, carry them 
round in their warm hands until they become 
wilted and faded.” Here, he took from his 
pocket a reel, wound with small, soft twine, 
which he unwound, cutting it in lengths of two 
feet or more. When he had given several of these 
to each boy, he further explained: “When you 
have gathered a fair bunch of flowers wind a 
string around the stems, and tie it, leaving ends 
enough to hang it to a button or button-hole. 
In this way you will keep the flowers as cool as 


128 


Rockton. 


possible, carry them downwards as you ought, 
and at the same time have your hands free to 
pick more. This will also keep the different 
kinds separate and allow them to be arranged at 
leisure.” To illustrate his meaning he tied to- 
gether a bunch of common saxifrage, which he 
had gathered while the boys were drinking at 
the spring, and making a loop with the ends of 
the string he drew it tightly over a button of 
his coat. “ Now, you see,” he continued, “ I ’ve 
a nice little nosegay made of about the sweetest 
of our early spring flowers, that ’most anybody’s 
sister would be pleased to wear to church to- 
morrow.” 

The ravine into which the happy boys were 
led was not amazing and overwhelming in its 
magnitude like the great gorges of the West, 
but was a quiet, romantic nook, such as lovers of 
the beautiful delight in. It descended gradually 
for perhaps a third of a mile, narrow all the 
way, yet widening a little as it opened into lower 
land at the southeast. A very little brook 
tinkled along amid the stones near the middle. 
On either side of this, and slightly above it, the 
ground was comparatively level, which was in 
turn bordered by the sides of the ravine that 
rose abruptly like walls. The latter had small 
trees growing in their fissures, and were tapes- 
tried all over with mosses and ferns. High over 


Seeing Beauties in Bloom. 129 

head the trees were bright in the beams of the 
descending sun, while a faint, golden, mist-like 
splendor was shed downwards into the bosky 
depths. 

When The Quintet with rapid steps had 
covered fully half of the length of the ravine, 
Mr. Armour called a halt, and bade the boys 
look along the ground before them. It was, in 
spots, fairly blue with patches of the loveliest 
and most modest of spring flowers. In our 
rough Eastern climate, none blossom earlier, and 
none repay more fully with their beauty those 
who seek them. 

“What are they?” asked Edward. 

“Hepatica,” replied Mr. Armour. “They 
are wonderful little flowers, in my eyes, and 
are of many shades, as you will see when you 
gather them. It is very seldom they grow so 
large and plentifully as they do here. It is the 
best spot for them I know. Now, let every boy 
get a big bunch, and then I will show you some- 
thing else.” 

Following his own orders, he busied himself 
in gathering, here and there, of the largest and 
most variously tinted blossoms until he had a 
cluster suited to his fancy, which he hung to a 
button after the manner of the saxifrage. When 
he called the boys together he sent Adolphus 
across the brook to find a perfect leaf of the 


130 


Rockton. 


plant on that side, and asked Bernard to find 
one on the side where they had gathered their 
flowers. When they returned, each with a leaf, 
Mr. Armour was standing with his back towards 
them. He said : 

“You may put the leaves in the hands of 
the other boys, and I can tell which side each 
leaf came from.” 

The boys had their heads together instantly, 
and when they had arranged the leaves in a way 
they thought would prevent liis guessing cor- 
rectly, told him they were “ready.” They had 
laid the leaves together on a flat stone. Mr. 
Armour picked one up, and said : 

“ This grew on this side, and,” picking up 
the other — “ this — youngster, you thought you 
could swindle me — this grew on this side, too.” 
The boys stared with astonishment, and then 
laughed. “ You thought you would catch me. 
Now I ’ll tell you what to do. One of you has 
the leaf from the other side. I ’ll turn around — 
no, I ’ll walk away — and you may get a dozen 
leaves from this side, mind, and put the other 
leaf with them, and I will pick it out the first 
time.” 

He walked away briskly while the boys ar- 
ranged for the trial. When he came back there 
were several leaves on the stone. He looked at 
them, put his finger on one, and said : “ That is 


Spring Bea uties in Bloom. i 3 i 

the leaf that Adolphus picked on the other side.” 
The boys were still more astonished. Edward 
wanted to know how he guessed. “I didn’t 
guess,” said Mr Armour; “I know the dif- 
ference. See, here,’ and he held two leaves 
out. “ Can’t you see these leaves are not alike ?” 

Adolphus looked at them closely, and replied : 
“ This one is sharper-pointed than the other.” 

“Exactly,” said Mr. Armour. “When a 
leaf grows on a north slope of a ravine or hill, 
it grows pointed like this, but when it grows 
on a south slope like the one over there, it 
grows with rounded lobes like the one you 
brought. So you can tell the difference now as 
well as I can.” 

“Why do they grow so?” inquired Bernard. 

“That reminds me of something bright,” 
said Mr. Armour. “ I read the other day that ‘It 
is the Why’s boy that asks the questions.’ I don’t 
know why these leaves grow so. I never met 
any one who could tell me. But come along; 
I ’ve more beauties to show you.” 

Crossing the tiny brook and following its 
course for a few moments they did, indeed, find 
more beauties, for they saw, all around, the lovely 
wax-white blossoms of Bloodroot. It seemed 
true, as Benjamin said, that there was “no end 
to ’em.” These flowers were unusually large. 
More string was soon called for, and “ I ’ve got 


132 


Rockton. 


enough,” the general affirmation. It required 
but a short time to ascend the ravine on the 
side on which they found these flowers. When 
they gained the top of its wall, the spring 
where they drank was half a mile on the left. 
They were making a straight path towards the 
rustic bridge, and Edward, running beside Mr. 
Armour, was wishing they “ could have ’nother 
adventure,” when a strange sound a little off 
their course arrested their attention. Edward 
didn’t run so fast, but asked: “Wasn’t it a 
wild bull?” Benjamin thought it “couldn’t be 
a bear.” Mr. Armour said : “ It sounds more 
like crocodiles. Do n’t they cry, Edward ?” 
This young gentleman allowed himself ignorant 
of most of the habits of these scaly creatures. 
Then Mr. Armour proposed that they should 
investigate a little. They had not gone far 
when the sound became much louder. It was a 
downright roar. There was also a rushing and 
thrashing in the bushes as though something — 
yes, two somethings — were coming. Edward 
and James had “ changed front ” and gone “ to 
the rear.” Bernard had picked up a stick. The 
roaring increased ; the thrashing likewise ; the 
bushes waved, and — a boy and a girl — rather a 
girl and boy, for she was much the taller, 
rushed out. Both were boo-hoo-ing with terrific 
energy. The girl, as soon as she saw Mr. Ar- 


Spring Beauties in Bloom. 133 

motir, rushed at him boo-hoo-ing still louder, 
and begged him to show her the way home. 
The boy stopped his bellowing, and looked 
sheepish. Edward said he had seen him before, 
and knew that he was a Rockton boy. After 
awhile the whole story came out. The boy 
was some eight or nine years old, and as solidly 
built as young Holt. His sister was about 
eleven years old, and as Benjamin said, “as slim 
as a slate-pencil.” For her age she was extraor- 
dinarily tall. They had started out for a walk 
in the woods, got turned around, and so had 
been running away from home in a vain attempt 
to reach it ; and had bellowed themselves hoarse 
in their fright. It was hard work to get them 
headed right. They insisted that Rockton was 
away to the east, but at length concluded to fol- 
low The Quintet. The boy proved to be a ter- 
rific brag. He so far recovered as to assert that 
he had n’t been scared, and had n’t been lost. 
“’Twas only Polly making the touse.” He 
knew the way home “just like a book.” 
Adolphus whispered to Bernard that probably 
this was so, and that he did n’t believe he could 
read anything but the primer. After they had 
crossed the alder bridge the boy declared he 
knew the way, and when they reached the bars 
Mr. Armour told him as he knew the way he 
had better start along ; which he did, turning 


134 


Rockton. 


to the east, the girl following. When The 
Quintet and its leader faced to the west, and 
were under way, the girl turned and ran after 
them. As she overtook them she asked Mr. 
Armour : 

“Do you live in Rockton ?” 

“Yes,” he answered. 

“ Are you going there now?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then I ’m going with you. That fool 
does n’t know the way.” 

This was evident enough. After a bit he 
came scampering behind. For a wonder he held 
his tongue all the way into Northville, where 
he left, following his sister, who from thence 
knew the way home. 

The sun had gone down when they entered 
the village. Mr. Armour turned up Linden 
Street with Bernard ; probably to smooth the 
way for the new uniform. 

As Edward and James, having said good 
night to Adolphus and Benjamin, had nearly 
reached the foot of Ridge Street, Annis Crab 
met and halted them. She hoped they had n’t 
“ been in any scrapes.” James chuckled, and 
said : “ We ’ve been in lots of them.” The care^ 
less boy evidently thought of several strips of 
scraped cuticle he at that moment possessed. 

The sharp, green eyes of Annis made an- 


Spring Beauties in Bloom. 135 

other discovery. Each boy had a bunch of 
flowers. Just before they entered the village The 
Quintet had halted, and each member had put 
all his flowers into one bunch, and carried them 
in his hand. The remarkable fact that Annis 
discovered was, that Edward had two bunches, 
and one was very fine, indeed. She begged for 
one, but the boy was stubborn. James’s eyes 
twinkled, for he had seen those flowers before ; 
and he remembered that when Mr. Armour left 
them his hands were empty. The next morn- 
ing when Annis, who was late in church, looked 
up at the choir, she whispered to herself : “Bless 
my soul, if Sarah Holt isn’t prinked out with 
spring flowers. Gracious ! I ’ve seen those very 
flowers before.” 



CHAPTER VII. 


A VERY RAINY SPELL. 


W HEW ! How it rained ! Smiling May 
forsooth ! Instead of a gay, laugh- 
ing, winsome maid, this was a doleful dam- 
sel, dissolved in tears of the wettest kind 
of weeping. Did it rain? Well, occasion- 
^ ally, but the most of the time for days, it 
was too busy pouring to attend to such trifling. 

“ Never seed such a fust of May in all my 
born days,” growled the oldest inhabitant as he 
mopped the donation of a small cataract out of 
the back of his neck. Solomon Whagg, with a 
pair of big spectacles on his nose, and a lugu- 
brious pucker on his face, sat day by day in his 
house, without the faintest attempt at a joke. 
He divided his time between his paper and the 
weather, peering anxiously over his glasses now 
and then, to see if there were any signs of its 
breaking away. On the fifth day he took from 
its nail “ The Old Farmer’s Almanac,” and read 

the astonishing prognostication, “ Look — out — 
136 



A Very Rainy Spell. 


i37 


for — rain — about — this — time,” which stretched 
from the first to about the middle of May, 
whereupon the aforesaid pucker condensed into 
a long, pathetic whistle, which at the end, as if 
rightly to balance itself, broadened out into a 
testy “ Pshaw !” and a snort of disgust. So 
unusual a display of temper in this renowned 
humorist spread a questioning look of astonish- 
ment over the usually placid features of good- 
natured, matter-of-fact Mrs. Whagg. This found 
its answer as her perturbed husband read and 
commented : “ ‘ Look out’ — yes, look out ! Did 
any one ever see nastier weather? — ‘for rain.’ 
Rain! Mercy sakes, old lady ; this is n’t a rain, 
it’s a deluge.” 

Looking from School Street up Linden Street 
there was a small, blurred, whitish something 
which showed itself faintly through the falling 
torrents. Inside the little cottage, fires were 
burning, and all the available space was hung 
with newly-washed clothes in what Mrs. Wal- 
ters called a “ dismal attempt to make fair 
weather but this remark was very nearly the 
only dry thing in the room. There was a wist- 
ful expression in Bernard’s eyes as he chucked 
a fresh supply of wood into the stove ; but it 
changed to a gleam of humor as he said : 
“ There ’s soft water enough to run our business 
for a year, mother.” 


12 


138 


Rockton. 


There were no eager conferences in corners 
of the School Street play-grounds, for these were 
nearly in condition for aquatic sports ; and the 
instant school was dismissed every boy scudded 
for home without as much as a good-bye to his 
mates. 

Adolphus bravely busied himself with his 
books, but poor Benjamin was too much dispir- 
ited to eat his usual allowance. 

Granny Norcross fretted and fumed, snuffed 
and scolded, until she made the atmosphere so 
sultry as almost to drive the rest of the family 
out into the rain. Annis Crab put on rubber 
boots and a water-proof gossamer, and started 
out for a constitutional. She had not gone far 
when an unpleasant sense of coldness and wet- 
ness across her shoulders set her to berating 
Jabez Long for selling her goods that were not 
water-proof. If truth must be told, she bought 
this very gossamer for a birthday present for 
herself when she was seventeen years old, and 
now she is — but it is unfair to tell! It sur- 
prised her deaf old mother to see her returned 
so soon. The only explanation she gave was 
that it rained “ too hard for anybody to get into 
any sort of a scrape.” 

Jabez Long was in blissful ignorance of the 
anathemas irate Annis launched at him. He 
thought he had done a fair stroke of business, 


A Very Rainy Spell. 


i39 


for he had loaned a half-dozen umbrellas, and 
put a little drab waterpoof over the dripping 
form of seven-year-old Mamie Brown, whose 
father had been for mouths laid up by a bad 
fall, and told her never to let him see her out 
in a rainy day without it. In the absence of 
any other customers, he perched himself on his 
counter, drummed with his heels, rubbed his fat 
hands together, chuckled, whistled, nodded, 
winked, and smiled as he thought of good things 
to do, when it should clear off. Outside the store 
it was dark almost to twilight gloom, but inside 
there was plenty of sunshine. At any rate, Mr. 
Armour who came in, dripping like a great New- 
foundland dog fresh from a bath, felt a sense of 
June warmth and brightness as soon as he en- 
tered. It would have been rare sport to be behind 
the piles of sheetings and calicoes, and seen and 
heard these cronies confabulating. They plotted 
plenty of mischief that Annis never could find 
out, and nobody ever knew except those who 
were benefited by it. 

But wasn’t Ridge Street catching it! It 
seemed just floating away by itself— a soaked, 
dreary island in an ocean of mist, through which 
the town below could but vaguely be seen. Sarah 
Holt, as she looked out upon it, said it made her 
think of Ararat, where Noah’s ark found the top 
of it sticking out of the water. 


140 


Rockton. 


James Mears was so utterly disheartened 
that he absolutely forgot to blunder, and sat so 
still that baby Harry undertook to supply this 
deficiency by climbing into his lap and tumbling 
out. This feat successfully accomplished, he 
sat on the floor and added a succession of squalls 
to the tempest without, and these brought Mrs. 
Mears upon the scene, and unlucky James to 
additional grief. 

Of all our boys, it must be allowed, Edward 
Holt was as little annoyed as any, except per- 
haps young Grant. Circumstances, as we have 
seen, had tended to develop the selfish side of 
his nature. He was in many ways bright and 
sharp, but was very slow with his books. This 
was due, largely, to the fact that, unlike many 
other children, he could not readily commit to 
memory what he did not understand. When he 
saw clearly the reason for a thing he never for- 
got. So far grammar was a muddle, and he 
stuck at words. All this gave his father no 
concern. He said: “Edward is bright enough. 
By and by he will see into things, and will sur- 
prise us with his progress.” 

So it came about that he tried his boyish 
philosophy on the gloomy weather, and succeeded 
in behaving himself much better than many 
older people in Rockton. Possibly Miss Sarah — 
Mr. Holt sometimes called her “ Sunshine ” — 


A Very Rainy Spell. 141 

helped him. The dampness had kinked her fair 
hair into a bewitching mass of dainty little curls, 
and she went around the house singing like a 
bird. She bantered Edward about projected 
tramps, and proposed in view of the depressing 
effect of the weather, that the boys call them- 
selves “The Grumpy Quintet.” It was in no 
small degree amusing to watch this young phi- 
losopher in his mental struggles to solve some 
knotty question Embargoed by the storm, 
he had ample time for such intellectual em- 
ployment. How he sat and pondered ! To 
help himself out, he crossed his legs, and 
clasped his knee with his hands. Boys imitate 
their elders, and in this trick he was uncon- 
sciously copying his father. His freckled fore- 
head was corrugated in puzzled lines ; his eyes 
half-shut; his lips tightly pursed — indeed, the 
whole boy was a very comical example of pro- 
found mental absorption. 

“Say, Sarah,” he said, after a long spell of 
cogitating abstraction “ What is unselfishness, 
any way?” 

It is to be hoped that all have learned that 
this young woman was both clear-headed and 
quick-witted. Hence it was her answer to Ed- 
ward’s question was indirect. 

“What do you think it is, brother?” 

“ Dun ’no ’s I know.” 


142 


Rockton. 


“Never mind, if you don’t know all you 
wish. Just tell me what you think.” 

Edward hugged his knee a little closer, nod- 
ded his head as he thought, and finally replied : 

“ Ain’t it for a feller to forget to think about 
himself, and think about other folks?” 

Many sisters who think they have plenty of 
good sense, would have shown their want of it 
just here by pulling Edward up short, and lec- 
turing him sharply on his inexcusably bad gram- 
mar. Not so, Sarah Holt. She had been well 
taught, and had a fine sense of propriety in the 
use of words. She often wondered why her 
brother was so heedless. She was very careful, 
when with him, to speak correctly, hoping that 
his imitativeness might help correct his glaring 
fault. She was equal to occasional lectures, as 
will be seen, but she was also wise enough to 
know that right thoughts and right moral direc- 
tion are of first importance. Had she “pitched 
into ” Edward about his string of grammatical er- 
rors, he might have been cross, he would not 
have pondered longer on the vital importance of 
unselfishness, and one great lesson of life might 
never have been learned. What she did, was 
to say: “ I think you have got it about right. I 
suppose you meant when you said ( think about 
other folks,’ that we ought to care for other 
people ? ” 


A Very Rainy Spell. 143 

To this question Edward nodded a reflective 
assent. 

“ I understand, ” she continued, “ that un- 
selfishness is what you say it is — forgetfulness 
of self, while we remember all the more to care 
for others. Selfishness is mean and little. It 
is chicken-hearted, for it is always afraid it will 
be robbed. It is afraid it will lose something if 
others get good. Unselfishness is large-liearted- 
ness ; a grand generosity that is glad when 
others are benfited.” 

“ I s’pose, then, a feller ought to be glad 
when other fellers have a, good time if he 
ain’t having a good time himself ?” said the boy. 

“ Yes, if you put it that way. An unselfish 
boy would prefer that half a dozen of his mates 
should enjoy themselves, and he have a dull 
time, rather than to have a good time himself, 
and all the rest have a dull time. But do n’t 
you see that if this boy, by having his dull 
time, could help all the others have a good 
time, his dull time wouldn’t be a dull time? 
How could he be dull or unhappy if he is mak- 
ing six other boys happy? No, he ought to be 
the cheerfullest and happiest boy of all. Do n’t 
you see it?” 

Edward brightened up all over. He un- 
clasped his hands, slapped his fat little thigh, 
curled up his freckled nose in a gleeful laugh, 


i 4 4 


Rockton. 


and said : “I just see it now. A chap has n’t got 
to be mis’rable to make others happy ! He can 
be jollier than anybody in making others jolly.” 

“ Too many people,” said Sarah, “ make the 
great mistake of thinking that goodness or un- 
selfishness brings unhappiness because of the 
sacrifices required. Edward, when are you the 
happiest? When you have done wrong or 
right?” 

“ I do n’t think a feller is ever very happy 
when he has done wrong,” replied the boy very 
soberly. 

“ If that is true, why is it that a boy ever 
does wrong?” The answer to this question 
came still more slowly. Edward not only puck- 
ered his brows, his eyes seemed to be looking 
backward as if searching for a reason in his 
memory. At length he said : 

“ I guess they think of the fun at the time, 
and forget it ’ll hurt afterwards.” 

“ I shall have to call you my philosophical 
brother if you keep on thinking, and talking so 
wisely,” said Sarah. “ I hope you will always 
remember that the only real fun is that which 
can be enjoyed twice. I mean enjoyed once, 
and then enjoyed forever. Do you understand ?” 

Edward nodded a thoughtful assent, and his 
sister patiently waited for what he might say. 

“ I s’pose real fun is to do what makes a fel- 


A Very Rainy Spell. 


i45 


ler feel good when he does it, and then makes 
him alters glad he did it,” was the way he put 
it; and Sarah thought this so nearly right that 
she made no attempt to correct it. She, however, 
was hardly prepared for the question which fol- 
lowed : “If a feller who forgets himself, and 
tries to make others happy, makes himself the 
happiest, ain’t he selfish after all ?” 

Here was a chance for this young woman 
with the chestnut curls to end the conversation 
by telling the questioner that he was getting be- 
yond his depth, or that he was misunderstand- 
ing things, and thus put him so far back in his 
rainy-day studies in moral philosophy as to dis- 
courage him for years to come. How many sis- 
ters, under like circumstances, would have pa- 
tiently picked out the mental tangle ? Sarah 
laughed, a rippling, joyous laugh that became 
her well, and said : 

“ I am very glad you asked this question. 
I will try to think correctly, and hope you will 
learn to do so. If we get hold of this matter 
right it will appear plain. Every one ought to 
desire to be right, and have ‘ the good feeling,’ as 
you call it, of being right. Suppose you should 
do good to others for the sole reason that you 
wish to be happy yourself; wouldn’t it be 
selfishness ?” 

“ ’Course it would,” assented Edward. 

13 


146 


Rockton. 


“ So it appears to me,” continued Sarah. 
“ And there would be nothing very broad or 
noble in the motive. You would not be doing 
good to others because it would make them 
happy, or because it was their right. The same 
selfish motive which would lead you to do good to 
others because it would make you happier, would 
lead you to do wrong to them if that would 
make you the happiest.” 

Like a wise teacher, she here stopped and 
asked Edward himself to think out an answer 
to his question. His eyes had snapped and 
twinkled while she had talked as if he was 
“ seeing into things,” and his answer was not 
long delayed. 

“I s’pose a chap ought ter forget himself, 
and do good to others just ’cause it will make 
them happy.” 

“Exactly,” said Sarah. “He is to do this 
because he puts their happiness before his own. 
He may wish to be happy, but he thinks more 
of others than he does of himself, and is bound 
to make them happy if he can. If he succeeds, 
he is happy because they are happy. Even if 
he fails, though this is not very likely, he is 
happy because he has honestly tried to do good. 
His happiness is . the reward of his unselfish- 
ness. In the other case, we supposed the hap- 
piness would be the reward of selfishness, and 


A Very Rainy Spell. 147 

of another, and*a very cheap kind. Do you see 
it now?” 

“ ’Guess I do,” replied Edward, smiling and 
stretching his fat body with evident satisfaction. 
After a moment, however, his face clouded with 
another troublesome question, on seeing which 
Sarah asked: “What is it now, my brother? 
Have you struck another snag ?” 

“ Yes,” said he. “ It all sounds nice, but 
how’s a little chap like me to be doin’ good and 
making folks happy ?” 

“ It may be easier for me to tell you if you 
will first tell me whom you would like to make 
happy,” replied Sarah. 

“Well, I want to make everybody happy; 
but I’d like ter make mother, father and you 
happy, any way.” 

“Perhaps,” said Sarah, “I can help you out 
by telling you a story.” It may not before have 
been said of this young woman that she had the 
somewhat rare art of story-telling; but Edward, 
at least, was well aware of this fact, and at her 
suggestion of this kind of a treat, was instantly 
bristling all over with interest. She began — it 
must be confessed in a somewhat stereotyped 
way. “ There was once a little boy ; he was a 
fairly good boy, as boys go. He h^d a nice 
father and mother, and, like you, had also a 
grown-up sister.” 


148 


Rockton. 


“ Where did he live?” interrupted Edward. 

“ Pretty well up in the world, I can assure 
you,” Sarah replied, good-naturedly ; and then 
she proceeded with her story. u Now this boy’s 
father and mother, to say nothing of his sister, 
loved him very much, and wished very much to 
be proud of all he did and said. He was a 
good-hearted, happy-natured little fellow ; but 
was inclined to be selfish. His father and 
mother made so much of him, he took their 
love for granted, and in his selfishness thought 
he need not make much effort to please* them. 
So he was careless about the house, noisy when 
he ought to be quiet, and had a bad habit of 
using words wrong, and using wrong words. If 
he had been careful enough to please them, and 
unselfish enough to break his bad habits — ” 

“ Con — junctions! that ain’t a story at all! 
You mean me,” shouted Edward ; and then 
subsided with a crestfallen look. 

“ Do you object to my story because it isn’t 
true ?” asked Sarah. 

“ N-n-no !” answered Edward, and then 
bravely and honestly added : “ ’Cause ’t is.” 

“And can not my brother, who is really a 
manly little fellow, manage it so I can, by and by, 
tell a different story, and have it equally true?” 

It was a prodigious sigh that our chubby 
little hero heaved as he knitted his brows, and 


A Very Rainy Spell. 


149 


screwed up his lips in evident determination of 
purpose. At length, he said, quite softly : 

“ 111 try.” And then with the peculiarly 
humorous look, seldom long absent from his 
face, he glanced up at his sister, and added : 
“ You ’ll have to help me about the words, 
’cause you ought ter do good.” 

She answered : 

“ Like you, I ’ll try. Suppose I begin 
now ?” 

“ All right. Go ahead !” he replied, and 
heroically straightened himself up for the lesson. 

“ Seeing that our ‘ conjunctions ’ scheme has 
worked so well, I think the same plan will do 
for further use, if we just broaden it a bit,” said 
Sarah. “ The trouble probably lies in the fact 
that you got hold of some words wrong by the 
help of others ; then you found it easier to clip 
a class of words, and you continue to use all 
these word wrong by force of habit.” 

“ ’Zactly,” ejaculated Edward, sententiously. 

“ Well,” continued Sarah, “ the best way I can 
think of for the cure for a bad habit, is to make 
the right way still more of a habit. You will 
have to be sharply on the lookout and work 
hard. How often do you say ’cause for 
because?” 

“ ’Most allers,” replied Edward. 

“ This word will do for a beginning, and a 


Rockton. 


150 

good illustration of our plan of cure,” said 
Sarah. “ If you use a word rightly until this 
becomes more of a habit than the wrong way, 
you will work a complete cure. Suppose you 
take this word because, and when alone repeat 
it aloud, hundreds of times, being careful all the 
while to put a slight emphasis on the first syl- 
lable, like this, Realise. It will not require long 
to get it right. When you think of the word the 
habit will not be to think ’cause, but because. 
When you get this word all right, then take an- 
other. You answered me a moment ago in a 
short sentence of two words. You said : ‘ ’Most 
allers.’ You meant ‘ almost always.’ You 
will learn, in time, to use right words, as well 
as to pronounce them properly. If you had an- 
swered my question by saying : ‘ Most of the 
time,’ then most would have been correct. 
When you are sure of ‘because,’ take hold of 
‘always’ until you always pronounce it cor- 
rectly. If you will try this plan faithfully with 
one word after another, it will not be long be- 
fore you will surprise and please us all. I am 
sure you can master one word each week.” 

“I can fix one everyday,” courageously pro- 
tested Edward. 

“Then,” said Sarah, “ I am confident that in 
six months, we shall have with us a young gen- 
tleman whose speech will be a model of propriety.” 


A Very Rainy Spell. 151 

Perhaps some may think the foregoing to be 
altogether too long a conversation for even a 
very long, rainy spell. It must, however, be 
borne in mind that Rockton was called to en- 
dure an exceptionally extended spell of falling 
weather, and in it, the members of The Jolly 
Quintet must talk ; for indeed they could do little 
else. The Wednesday after the “big” Satur- 
day already described, was too damp even for 
Edward to sail to Africa; and — alas for boyish 
hopes ! — the following Saturday was no better. 
Tuesday afternoon had come around. The 
floods of rain had, in the morning, called forth 
the signal for one session of the public schools. 
Edward Holt, as we have seen, passed a part of 
the afternoon in conversation with Sarah. She 
might have gone on adding precept to precept ; 
but wise girl that she was, she preferred to let 
the seed she had sown have a chance to grow, 
rather than dig it up in trying to plant more. 

“What are you going to do to-morrow after- 
noon ?” she asked her brother, as he stood look- 
ing disconsolately out of an east window. 

“ ’Dun-no’. ’ Guess I ’ll go up in the attic, 
so I won’t be-drownded,” he replied. 

She joined him at the window, where both 
looked at the clouded skies. 

“Do you s-^/>-pose it will ever clear off?” he 
dolefully asked. 


Rockton. 


152 

For answer she patted his head, and said : 

“This would be the only storm I have ever 
seen that did not. I shall always think this one 
a big blessing. I would n’t exchange that ‘ sup- 
pose’ of yours for a week’s sunshine!” 

Edward shook his head dissentingly at this 
estimate, and said: 

“I’d sup - pose it for an hour, just as fast as 
ever I could, for one single bit of sunshine. O 
my!” he cried, interrupting himself, and quiver- 
ing all over with excitement. “ I guess it ’s go- 
in’ to clear off after all! Just look there!” 

And “look there ” Sarah did. If her brother’s 
eyes had not been busy with what he saw out- 
side, he might have discovered that there was 
something in her eyes that said something about 
fair weather — or some other equally pleasant 
matter. Standing on the top of the ridge was 
the tall form of Mr. Armour, and he was look- 
ing around as calmly as if there never had been 
a rain-storm to trouble him. 

“Splendid! It does n’t rain a drop!” Edward 
joyously piped, and Sarah encouraged him by 
saying : 

“I believe it has not been raining for more 
than an hour.” 

“Hurrah! there goes Jim Mears!” Edward 
shouted, as he caught sight of that young 
worthy running across the field. “Cricky ! what 


A Very Rainy Spell. 


153 


a tumble !” was his next ejaculation, as the 
heedless runner caught his foot in a bramble, 
and turned an involuntary summerset into some 
bushes that benevolently held out their slender 
arms to make his fall harmless, but at the same 
moment justly punished him for his carelessness 
by a copious shower-bath from their dripping 
leaves. Edward did not wait to see what would 
follow this tumble, but started for his hat with an 
alacrity surprising in so chubby a boy. Before he 
could reach the outside door, Sarah called him 
back, and suggested that, as the long storm had 
probably left the fields and woods in a bad con- 
dition for an excursion, he had better invite The 
Quintet to visit him on the next afternoon, as it 
would be a half-holiday. She also suggested 
further that it might be very pleasant for them 
to play together in the big, new barn ; that they 
could come, even if it proved rainy; and that, 
to make it perhaps still more pleasant, he might 
ask them all to tea. To say that Edward’s eyes 
danced, is putting it quite too mildly. As a 
matter of fact, the whole boy danced. But his 
hilarity suddenly subsided into a sobriety so in- 
tensely comical that not to have laughed at it 
would have been very unnatural in his sister. 

“What is the matter?” she asked. “You 
look as though I had proposed the extermination 
of The Quintet.” 


i54 


Rockton. 


“I — I think it will be selfish in me to let 
you do it. It will make lots of work for you or 
mother.” 

Sarah nodded at him gleefully, and said: 

“Never you fear, my brother! It is unself- 
ish in you to think of mother and me, but it 
will not require much extra work. Besides, I 
shall enjoy, perhaps as much as you, having the 
boys to tea. They are bright and well-behaved. 

I like to have you with them. Invite them, to 
please mother and me.” 

Edward’s smile came out again. He made 
a rush for the door, and grasped the knob; then 
turned back to where his sister stood, and with 
a latent roguishness in his eyes, gravely asked: 

“Shall I invite Mr. Armour too?” 

If he thought, or any reader could suppose, 
that this wide-awake young woman could be 
troubled by such a question, it will have to be 
set down as a mistake. Sarah took Edward’s 
hat from his hands, clapped it on his short- 
cropped head, led him to the door, and pushing 
him gently out, said: 

“The very reason why I told you to invite 
the boys to-morrow is because Mr. Armour is al- 
ready engaged to be here to tea.” 

Edward settled his hat in a bewildered way, 
blew a whistle which said “I’m beat this time, 
sure!” and then, answering back a welcoming 


A Very Rainy Spell. 


i55 


shout from James, scampered away towards the 
top of the ridge. 

“Why didn’t you come out soon as you saw ' 
Mr. Armour?” asked James, when that gentle- 
man had shaken hands with the latest arrival. 

“Because I was talking with Sarah,” was 
the reply. 

Mr. Armour smiled, and his eyes made a 
note which connected the half-stutter and em- 
phasis of the beginning of this answer and the 
name of the sister. He said: 

“I am glad of another improving attack of 
^//-junctions. But” — and he pointed to the 
well-filled pond — “I judge if you were ship- 
wrecked on a voyage to Africa to-day, Edward, 
you would find it farther to land than you did 
the day I saw you wading ashore.” 

Of course Edward and James talked; indeed, 
talked a great deal. Their tall friend talked 
some — enough, at least, to keep their tongues 
going — and made mental notes all the while. 

Edward was full of plans for a “grand time” 
the next afternoon, and James volunteered to be 
his messenger to the three absentees. Both 
dubitated about the weather, but Mr. Armour 
sniffed the air like an “old salt,” and told them 
the storm had spent its strength, and he saw 
signs in plenty of fair weather. On this as- 
surance, James, with a commendable faith, pro- 


Rockton. 


156 

posed to go home and “ask mother,” and run 
down into Northville with Mr. Armour, when 
he returned home, and “ask the rest right 
away.” Mr. Armour commended the boy for his 
willingness to undertake the mission and his 
thoughtfulness in regard to his mother’s permis- 
sion, but said: 

“I intend to call on Bernard this evening, 
to see if the new uniform fits him. If it does, 
we will have it on exhibition to-morrow after- 
noon. As I go around to his mother’s house, it 
will not be many steps out of my way to call 
on the other boys. Besides, I wish to see their 
parents. They should understand all about our 
plans. We will do nothing unless they heartily 
approve. Perhaps I had better go home with 
James, on my way down, and see his mother.” 

James admitted that this plan was the best, 
and owned that he was in some disgrace at 
home. He gave a humorous description of his 
stupid despondency on account of the weather, 
and how “the little kid” had climbed into his 
lap, and then disastrously tumbled out. “Gra- 
cious!” he said; “but wasn’t there trouble, and 
right away too! Mother thinks a pile of that 
infant! Lucky his head hasn’t growed hard! 
There ’s a bunch on one corner as big as a small 
onion. He ’s toddling round with a patch of 
brown paper on it that mother makes me wet in 


A Very Rainy Spell. 


i57 


cold water every now and then, she says, to re- 
mind me of my carelessness; and the youngster 
just sets up and howls like fury every time I do 
it. I believe it’s just to make mother think I 
am hurting him, and get her to make me howl 
too! Before I let him fall again, I’ll tie a 
pillow on his head!” 

This recital amused Mr. Armour and Ed- 
ward, and neither neglected the opportunity to 
poke fun at James for his habitual heedlessness. 
The former said : 

“I hope this new bump you have caused to 
be raised on your little brother’s head may 
prove a big bump of caution. But there is your 
mother at the door, with him in her arms. I 
will go over and make friends with him, and 
talk with her as I do it.” 

So saying, and bidding Edward good-bye 
until the morrow, he strode away, with James at 
his heels; and in a moment was snapping his 
fingers at the youngest Mears, who, with a base 
ingratitude common to his age, stretched out his 
hands, and kicked in his mother’s arms, in 
frantic efforts to get to this new-comer, who im- 
mediately had him perched on his shoulder, 
where he screamed with pride at his elevation, 
and pounded on Mr. Armour’s hat in supreme 
content. 

The conversation which accompanied these 


Rockton. 


158 

maneuvers must have been quite satisfactory, 
for Mrs. Mears’s face was wreathed in smiles; 
while James, equally smiling, was by her side, 
holding fast to one of her hands. When she 
said, “Nothing could be nicer, or please me 
more,” James gave her hand a grateful squeeze, 
and mentally vowed to grow a big bump of cau- 
tion on his own head. 

Mr. Armour gave back to his mother’s arms 
the youngster with the brown-paper plaster, 
who yelled a terrific remonstrance; and leaving 
her still smiling, and James a radiant ditto, and 
the bumped yearling bumptiously squalling, he 
lifted his hat, and with long, swift strides, was 
soon lost to sight on his way home. 



CHAPTER YIII. 

MORE SUNSHINE AND FUN. 

R. ARMOUR proved to be a reliable 
weather prophet. During Tuesday 
night it cleared off — a hopeful sign to 
weatherwise people, as if nature thereby in- 
tended to atone for the unusually long 
A storm by promising a compensatingly long 
spell of pleasant weather. Rockton came out 
in grateful force on Wednesday morning to en- 
joy the sunshine in common with the whole de- 
lighted country. Solomon Whagg was out 
bright and early, and went the rounds of North- 
ville, keeping up, all the bright forenoon, a per- 
fect fusilade of small jokes. Granny Norcross 
hobbled around her immediate neighborhood, 
and told everybody she could reach what an awful 
spell of “nurology” the “ terubble wethur” 
had caused her to endure. Even Annis Crab 
smiled back at the sun. True, it was a little 
watery after so much rain; still it was undeni- 

159 



160 Rockton. 

ably a smile; and when she stepped into Jabez 
Long’s store, she felt so good-natured that she 
entirely forgot to berate him, as she had prom- 
ised herself she would, for selling her a water- 
proof that would wear out, but instead actually 
bought herself a couple of cotton handkerchiefs 
out of a “job lot” that the enterprising propri- 
etor was advertising as a great bargain at five 
cents each. 

Jabez Long, everybody said, was always all 
sunshine; but this morning he “just beamed.” 
So at least Edward Holt and James Mears said 
to each other, after they had chatted a few mo- 
ments with him, as he stood in the doorway of 
what he sometimes was pleased to call his 
“Great Dry Goods Emporium.” He threat- 
ened to leave this “Emporium” to take care of 
itself, and run up on Ridge Street in the after- 
noon and spoil their sport. They laughingly 
challenged him to make his threat a promise. 
Edward advised him to get Annis Crab — who, 
showing not the slightest symptom of haste, 
was lingering on the sidewalk, listening to the 
merry talk and admiring her purchase — to tend 
the store for him; and she actually seemed 
pleased at this suggestion. Mr. Long proposed 
for an improvement on Edward’s plan, that he 
had better take Annis along with him to visit 
the boys; whereat she bridled up, and said she 


More Sunshine and Fun. 161 

was mortally afraid so giddy a chap as he would 
get her “ into some scrape and then she walked 
away, chuckling at her own wit, and happier 
than she had been for a week. 

When she was well out of ear-shot, Mr. Long 
asked the boys what sort of a time they were 
going to have in the afternoon, and winked and 
wheezed and laughed in such a funny way that 
Edward told James, in an aside, that he be- 
lieved the jolly storekeeper knew more about 
things than he would tell. This was true; and 
if the sharp little fellow had but stopped to 
think of what happened the evening before, he 
might have found ample reasons to strengthen 
his surmise. 

The story of Tuesday evening has not yet 
been told. This is a good place for it. It has 
previously been said that Mr. Holt’s house 
could be found at the west end of Ridge Street. 
In fact it is the last house on the street. Not 
that the street really ends; but just after it 
passes this house it becomes two divergent 
streets, like an immense Y, which run their 
well laid-out way down to the foot of the ridge, 
and end in another street, which connects 
Northville with the west end of the principal 
part of the town. Just where Ridge Street 
branches out in the manner above indicated, it 
is crossed at right-angles by another street, 
14 


i 62 


Rockton. 


which comes up the gradual ascent of the south 
side of the ridge, and, after passing Ridge Street, 
drops directly down the abrupter north slope 
into the western edge of Northville. When 
these streets were first staked out, Mr. Holt 
purchased the corner lot, on which he afterward 
built his house, facing, as he wished it, to the 
south. He was quite correct when he told his 
wife he had “done a good bit of business.” Not 
only did he buy this lot, but a number of lots 
all around it, and thus made himself fairly sure 
of the quality of his neighbors. 

When he felt he could afford it, he built the 
house of this story, to please, as he always said, 
his wife. It is not Queen Anne, Elizabethan, 
or Dutch in style. Its builder did not attempt 
anything old-fashioned, or any startling new- 
fashioned monstrosity, but put up a substantial 
house of a style that just suits its inhabitants, 
and, as a matter of course, about every one else 
who sees it. When this house was completed 
to the entire satisfaction of Mrs. Holt, and paid 
for to the still greater satisfaction of all con- 
cerned, Mr. Holt said he thought the time had 
come to build something to please himself. 
When asked, “What?” he replied: “I have 
plenty of land and I am going to build a barn.” 
Some of his friends suggested “a stable;” but 
he told them that his early days were spent on 


More Sunshine and Fun. 163 

a farm, and that the barn was the delight of his 
boyhood, and, if he knew himself, he would 
build a big barn. And a “big barn” it is! 
How “big” it is useless to try to tell. Mrs. 
Holt once laughingly said : “ If our family ever 
gets too large for the house, I can get my hus- 
band to finish off the barn, and move into it 
and keep boarders.” Well, this barn was well 
built, and the ridge dwellers are not a little 
proud of its generous proportions and neat 
cupola. One of them jocosely said to Mr. Holt: 
“When the ridge is all built over, you can put 
in a few more windows and finish it off inside 
for a meeting-house.” He good-naturedly re- 
torted: “I will do so just as soon as my neigh- 
bors are pious enough to require it.” 

This big barn has something to do with this 
story. Soon after Edward returned from his 
meeting with Mr. Armour and James Mears, 011 
Tuesday afternoon, Mr. Holt came home. Ed- 
ward thought he was unusually early; but of 
course this was none of his business. Then, 
too, supper was remarkably early; but this also 
was none of his business. Then Sarah had an 
errand for him at Mr. Long’s store. He won- 
dered she had not sent by him when he went to 
school, and wondered she was in such a hurry 
she could n’t wait till he went down in the 
morning. Still, this was none of his business. 


164 


Rockton . 


Besides, he was not averse to a run down into 
Northville, hoping that perhaps he might come 
across some of The Jolly Quintet, and so bear to 
them his own invitation for the morrow. Then, 
again, he wondered that Sarah, instead of trust- 
ing to his memory, and so help him to a habit 
of remembering, as she was accustomed to do, 
should send a note; but he concluded that this, 
like all other unusual things he had noticed, was 
none of his business. When he went out of the 
side door to carry the note, he noticed two of his 
father’s best workmen were in front of the barn, 
and this puzzled him still more ; but as they 
said nothing, he wisely held his own tongue and 
went his way, full of joyous anticipations of 
the good time he would have in playing host to 
his mates. He was half inclined to turn back 
and ask his father to put up a swing in the 
barn, but concluded the request would do as 
well when he returned. He was still more puz- 
zled when he entered Mr. Long’s store and de- 
livered Sarah’s note ; for as soon as he opened 
it that droll worthy seemed inclined to burst out 
laughing, but he puckered his face in a queer 
way, nodded to himself, winked mysteriously at 
Edward, and then bustled away as if in search 
of something of very great importance. After 
awhile he came back with a small parcel, which 
he asked Edward to be kind enough to take 


More Sunshine and Fun. 165 

around to a house on Cross Street, and deliver 
to the woman who lived in it, while he was fill- 
ing Sarah’s order. This was another surprise 
for the little fellow; but he trudged happily 
away, for it was a pleasure to oblige Mr. Long. 
When he was gone, Mr. Long put on his spec- 
tacles and read Sarah’s note again. This was 
how it ran: 

“ Mr. Jabez Long: My Dear Friend , — Please 
send by Edward two spools of No. 60 cotton, to 
match the inclosed sample. I also wish you to 
detain him in some way, as you doubtless can. 
We would like an hour, or more if possible, in 
which to prepare a surprise for him, and do not 
wish him to have even a hint of it until to- 
morrow afternoon. 

“ Respectfully yours, 

“Sarah A. Hort.” 

“Smart girl, that Sarah Holt,” chuckled Mr. 
Long; and then he busied himself with cutting 
off half a dozen samples of goods, each of which 
he carefully tagged and marked with its price, 
and put the whole in an envelope, which he di- 
rected to Mrs. E. M. Harding, No. 14 Cedar 
Street. This done, he stood and looked at the 
envelope in a knowing way, with his head on 
qpe side. “ There,” he said to himself in a 
complacent tone, “this will keep our chubby 


1 66 


Rockton. 


little gentleman busy for twenty or thirty min- 
utes more.” When Edward came back, he said: 
“Young man, if I shut up this Great Dry Goods 
Emporium to-morrow afternoon, or trust it to 
other people, so I can climb up to your jam- 
boree, I ’ve got to have all my errands done. I 
promised Mrs. Harding some samples of goods 
to-morrow. If you want me on Ridge Street, I 
want you to show it by carrying them over to- 
night. But do n’t hurry ! I ’ll send word to 
Sarah that I kept you running errands for me, 
and make it all right.” 

Edward started on this second errand, whis- 
tling, and wondering, as he went, at this strange 
freak in Mr. Long, but unsuspicious of any con- 
spiracy with regard to himself. 

Meanwhile there was some remarkably quick 
work being done on Ridge Street. Hardly was 
his son out of sight when Mr. Holt was with 
the men Edward had noticed, and they had been 
re-enforced by another. The four went to work 
in the barn with a will. There was a conspiracy, 
and it was no new thing. For days old Charley 
had hauled occasional loads of sawdust. Edward 
had noticed this, and when he asked his father 
what he could do with so much of the stuff, was 
told in a vague way that there were uses in 
plenty for it, and was directed to spread some of 
it on the floor of the box-stall where old Charley 


More Sunshine and Fun. 167 

found comfortable quarters when not at work. Be- 
sides the sawdust several small loads of manufac- 
tured lumber had been left around the barn-floor, 
and there was more on the big wagon outside. 
Whatever plan was in Mr. Holt’s mind, his men 
evidently knew something about it. He stripped 
off his coat, opened a box of tools, gave a few 
plain directions, and all “fell to” as if a very 
big job must be done in a very short time. There 
was the rapid sound of saws, hammers, and of 
general activity which quickly brought Mrs. 
Holt and Sarah upon the scene. They expressed 
not the slightest surprise ; hence it is but just to 
infer that they knew what was going on. If any- 
thing further could be gathered from their gen- 
eral appearance, they were not only greatly 
interested in the proceedings, they also very 
much approved of them. ' 

“ It is fortunate we got all these contriv- 
ances made beforehand, so we have nothing to 
do but put them together,” remarked Mr. Holt 
as he drove a stout wooden pin to hold a tenon 
securely in place. To this, one of the men re- 
plied : 

“It’s lucky you decided beforehand just 
where to put them, so we ’ve nothing to do 
but whack them together and fasten them in 
place.” 

Mrs. Holt watched the men as they sprang 


Rockton. 


1 68 

cheerfully around at their work, but she still 
more carefully watched through a window to 
see if any one might be coming along Ridge 
Street. Sarah saw she felt a bit anxious, and 
quietly said : 

“ You need not fear, mother ! I think my 
note to Mr. Ron g has made sure there will be 
ample time.” 

And ample time there was for whatever was 
being done. Before the spools of number sixty 
cotton were found, and declared to be a good 
match for the sample, and Edward, with a reply 
to Sarah’s note in Mr. Rong’s oddly sprawling 
handwriting, was on his upward way home, Mr. 
Holt said : 

“ Everything is all right. You have done a 
good job, boys. It has taken us just an hour 
and ten minutes. You will each find you are 
credited with two hours’ overwork. Now, we will 
lock up, and keep dark !” 

When Edward entered the house and deliv- 
ered Mr. Rong’s note, and the ridiculously small 
bundle that came with it, he found his father 
in dressing-gown and slippers, and busy with 
his paper as if nothing whatever had happened. 
His mother was as placid of countenance as she 
usually appeared. She soberly inquired : 

“ Have n’t you been quite a long time on your 
errand, my son?” 


More Sunshine and Fun. 169 

Edward did not see the broad smile on the 
face of his father, or the comical glance he shot 
at Sarah from behind his paper. This yonng 
woman’s responsive laugh she managed to turn 
to good account by answering for her brother: 

“ Mr. Long must be having a small rush of 
business. His note says he took the liberty to 
detain Edward long enough to send him on a 
couple of errands.” 

Mr. Holt here saw a chance to indulge his 
desire to laugh without suspicion, and as he 
shook all over, asked : 

“ Are n’t you going into the dry goods busi- 
ness rather early in life, Edward ?” 

The boy here thought he saw his oppor- 
tunity to ask the favor he had had in mind all 
the time he was trudging down into Northville 
and back. 

“ Mother and Sarah are going to get supper 
for our Quintet, and let me invite the boys to 
spend the afternoon here to-morrow. Won’t 
you, please father, put up a big swing in the 
barn ?” 

For a moment Mr. Holt made no reply, but 
seemed to be turning this request, or something, 
over in his mind. At length he said : 

“ Edward, I will make a bargain with you. 
If you will agree — let me see if it will do — 
h’m — yes — I think it will — if you will agree 
'5 


Rockton ; 


170 

that you won’t go to the barn until the boys all 
get here to-morrow afternoon, I will agree on 
my part that there shall be a big swing put up 
in good shape by the time they are ready to use 
it. What do you say ? Shall it be a bargain ?” 

Edward’s eyes grew large. Had James 
Mears been around, he would have said “they 
stuck out ” “ Stay away from the barn?” What 
could this mean? But his father’s word was 
“ as good as a bond,” and he wished for the 
swing very much. So with good sense, he very 
emphatically and joyously replied: 

“Yes, sir, I’ll agree to it.” 

Mr. Holt turned again to his paper, re- 
marking : 

“ I am sure you will keep your part of the 
contract, and I feel equally sure the swing will 
be there.” 

What was there in this remark to set Sarah 
off in tuneful peals of laughter? And why 
should his mother drop her work and join in it? 
All the bewildered boy could do was to add his 
cackle to the puzzling mirth, and content him- 
self with the promise of his father. When the 
evening prayer had been offered, he went hap- 
pily to bed to dream of the coming afternoon 
with the boys, and the swing. It would have 
been surprising, if, when he awoke on Wednes- 
day morning, and found everything so bright 


More Sunshine and Fun. 17 i 

and beautiful, he had not thought of the bargain 
he had made with his father, and wondered not 
a little whether the swing was already up, or 
just when or how it would be done. But he got 
no further in his conjectures, and wisely decided, 
as he could fully trust his father’s word, to wait 
until the terms of the contract would allow him 
to see it as it then would surely be. Perhaps 
this conclusion made him so unsuspicious of the 
winking and joking of Mr. JabezDong. To be sure 
he looked wistfully at the barn when he came 
home from school ; but the big doors opened on 
the other street, and the honest little fellow 
would n’t walk around on that street even for a 
sly peep. At dinner he longed to ask his father; 
but it occurred to him that it might appear that 
he was afraid his father had forgotten his part 
of the bargain. No ! he would wait a little 
longer. 

Dinner over, he was out at the old trysting 
place on the top of the ridge to meet his mates 
whom he had repeatedly instructed to “be sure 
and come early.” With a “ whoop la!” and a 
ringing “hurrah!” James Mears was almost 
immediately running across the lots to join him, 
and for a marvel did not tumble either up or 
down. 

“O my! isn’t it just glorious?” he asserted 
and interrogated in another shout as he reached 


172 


Rockton. 


the top of the ridge, panting for breath from his 
headlong race against time, and with his eager 
face shining in the sunlight. 

“ Splendacious!” was Edward’s reply; and 
then, as if he was not quite sure this was right, 
he correctively added, “Splendiferous!” 

After such a pyrotechnical display of un- 
Websterian adjectives there was not much more 
to say of the weather, and little else to do but 
wait and conjecture how long they must wait 
for the others. They could see by the clock on 
Northville church that it was a few moments 
before one o’clock. After sage deliberation, they 
jointly concluded that it was not probable that 
all would be through dinner as early as them- 
selves, and that, allowing for possible delays, they 
ought not to expect any re-enforcements before 
half-past one. So with commendable patience 
they sat down to tell stories and while away the 
time while they waited. Edward was almost 
bursting with a great desire to tell about the big 
swing in the big barn; but with great self-control 
he determined to leave it for a surprise for James 
as well as the rest ; and a surprise it was ! 

When the hands on the church-clock told 
their sharp eyes that it was eighteen minutes 
past one, James began to rehearse a story he 
had but recently read, but it was never finished. 
His narrative had run h\\t a moment or two 


More Sunshine and Fun. 


i73 


when it was cut short by a faint “halloa !” in 
the distance ; and Edward, without the slightest 
regard for the feelings of the narrator, jumped 
to his feet, began an exaggerated Indian dance, 
and shouted, “ There they come,” following this 
with a series of frantic “ hurrahs !” that might 
have brought out the Northville Fire Brigade if 
the wind had been in the south. James was 
equally vociferous, and continued so until the 
three from the village who had started together 
from Mr. Long’s store, had made their way 
through the birch growth, and scaled the ledge. 
Mutual, and hearty congratulations were first in 
order, but Edward cut them short in his impa- 
tience to lead the column in an advance on the 
big barn. As there could not be the slightest 
objection on the part of any to this movement 
they were instantly on the way. 

As they entered the yard, Miss Sarah ap- 
peared at the front door, and invited them to 
come into the house and rest. Edward stoutly 
expressed his choice for the barn, and his. mates 
politely chorused their concurrence. So, leaving 
the young woman laughing merrily in the porch, 
they trooped away at the heels of the excited Ed- 
ward, whose sturdy legs soon carried him through 
the big barn-doors, which were invitingly wide 
open, as if expecting him and the jolly com- 
panions who rushed in after him. 


174 


Rockton. 


“Whew!” 

“O my !” 

“ Hurrah !” 

“ This beats all !” 

“ Capital ! isn’t it ?” 

Thus five breathless boys all at once. Sur- 
prise was in each varied tone; blank surprise 
on each boyish face. But Edward’s face showed 
the blankest surprise of all! Adolphus Grant, 
though himself much surprised, could not help 
noticing it, and asked : 

“What’s the matter with you, old man? 
You look as if you are what Granny Norcross 
calls 1 dumb-foundered !’” 

“What’s hit you now?” asked Benjamin 
Strong. 

But not a word answered Edward. With 
wide-open mouth and staring eyes, he stood — and 
stared ! Was there a swing? Certainty there was, 
and a marvel of a swing, too. It was no common 
thing made of ropes. It was hung from big 
staples in the beams ‘ ’way up ’ overhead. Ed- 
ward had noticed these staples for more than a 
week, and had wondered what they could have 
been put there for. And the swing itself! 
Why, it was as Adolphus critically and approv- 
ingly affirmed, “ a wonderful back-acting con- 
trivance.” It was strong enough for all the 
boys to pile in at once, and so constructed that 


More Sunshine and Fun. 175 

they could bring into action a leverage with 
their feet, and thus make it, as they all said, 
“ Go of itself, without any one to push.” Be- 
sides, it was so hung that it could swing out of 
the big doors, and thus leave the larger part of 
the barn floor clear, even when it was in motion. 
But this swing was only a small part of the 
great surprise. 

“My! what are all these coutraptions ?” 
asked James, as he rushed farther into the in- 
terior of the barn with the rest following him. 

What were they, indeed ? And what was the 
matter with poor Edward? He was still more 
“ dumb-foundered.” Adolphus, who had read 
some in “ Arabian Nights,” asked him if 
Aladdin had been there with his wonderful lamp ; 
but our chubby hero only shook his head in mute 
amazement. What magic had been at work? 
There was a smooth, horizontal bar in two stout 
upright posts. There was a pair of horizontal 
bars. Across the barn, and not too high up, 
was a row of swinging bars. There was also 
a — well, call it a gymnastic ladder, with smooth 
rungs, just big enough to grasp properly, and so 
arranged that a boy could go up obliquely with 
his hands for about eight feet, cross over hori- 
zontally, ten feet more, and come down another 
oblique. Nor was this quite all. Some well- 
^ smoothed planks had been placed 011 edge, and 


176 


Rockton. 


securely fastened around all the space occupied 
by these various “ contraptions,” and a wise 
precautionary use had been found for the be- 
fore-mentioned sawdust. It had been spread 
evenly over all the space inside the planks, thus 
making a soft cushion about eight inches thick 
to receive harmless any boy who should hap- 
pen to fall. 

James could not contain himself. He 
jumped for the horizontal bar, and swung him- 
self upon it. With his usual skill in blunder- 
ing, he not only swung himself on it, but over 
it, and came down flat on his back on the saw- 
dust beneath, thus at the outset proving the 
wisdom of its provision. He laughed. He could 
afford to, for he was not one bit hurt. All the 
rest laughed. Miss Sarah, who was coming in 
at the moment, and witnessed this first “flop,” 
laughed too. All laughed ! No, not quite all. 
Edward was sober. “ Sober as an owl,” Ber- 
nard said. The little fellow still winked, and 
stared, and his chubby chin quivered. His 
sister saw he was completely overcome, and 
came promptly to his help. 

“ Well, Edward, do n’t you think we have 
done a good thing?” she asked. Without wait- 
ing for an answer, she went on : “ We did have 
to work shrewdly and sharply to keep you 
from knowing of it. We had things all planned 


More Sunshine and Fun. 177 

for some time. Father made the various parts 
as he found opportunity. Everything was ready 
last week except the bringing home and putting 
up. Then we thought of an afternoon for the 
boys. East night, when I sent you down to Mr. 
Eong’s, I asked him, in my note, to keep you 
awhile, and father and his men made quick work 
of putting things together. But did n’t I laugh 
last night when you made that bargain ?” 

While she was talking, Edward’s face became 
rosy. As he saw how this pleasant and gainful 
joke had k been played, his sense of humor as- 
serted itself, and he began to laugh with his 
mates, who were crowding around him. Could 
there have been a happier boy ? What a loving 
mother and father! And what a splendid sister ! 
There were big, honest tears of gratitude and af- 
fection in his eyes as he laughed. His mother 
came into the barn to see the fun, and he ran 
to her and kissed her while the residue of The 
Jolly Quintet, in the uncontrollable exuberance 
of their sympathetic joy, gave three rousing 
cheers. 

When all had admired to their heart’s con- 
tent, and Mrs. Holt and Sarah had left them to 
themselves, the boys stripped off their jackets, 
and set themselves to testing each gymnastic 
“contraption” until they were tired. 



CHAPTER IX. 

MORE FUN AND SOME HORSE-SENSE. 

the members of The Quintet 
* V V had reached the unanimous conclu- 
sion that they had quite enough gymnas- 
tics, they amused themselves with games 
requiring less exhaustive efforts. Thus en- 
gaged, the moments flew by until Adolphus 
Grant, who had attained to the manly dignity 
of a real watch — which, by the way, he assured 
his mates was no “Waterbury” — declared it was 
ten minutes past four o’clock. On this an- 
nouncement all piled into the wide-seated swing, 
and set themselves, as Bernard said, “a- wag- 
ging” to cool off, and deliberate as to what next 
to do. As they swung to and fro, now in and 
now out, there came the whirring sound of 
swiftly-rolling wheels and the accompanying 
hoof-beats of a horse, and Mr. Armour drove 
around the corner from Ridge Street in a light 
“Democrat” wagon, with none other than jolly 
178 



More Fun and Some Horse-Sense. 179 

Jabez Long beside him. In a twinkling, five 
boys were out of the swing, and this time five 
boys were vociferously cheering. 

Mr. Long protested that they would scare 
him and the horse ; but that animal minded the 
noise less than the flies that had begun to buzz 
about him, and only looked around at Mr. Ar- 
mour as if to ask him what all the rumpus was 
about. That gentleman sprang from the wagon, 
and, after helping Mr. Long down, proceeded to 
tie the horse. Of course all the boys gathered 
around. 

“ I think he is a very nice-looking horse,” 
said Adolphus, critically. He was given to no- 
ticing horses, probably from the fact that his 
father was doing a large amount of expressing 
and teaming, and had a stable full of them. 

“Yes, he is quite a good one,” replied Mr. 
Armour, as he stroked his velvety nose. 

They all began to admire him except Mr. 
Long, who declared : 

“The gray rascal ran away with us up Ridge 
Street.” 

“Whose horse is he, Mr. Armour?” asked 
Benjamin. “I never saw him before.” 

“No; he is afresh importation. I bought 
him awhile ago, and have had him kept on the 
home farm, that my oldest brother might handle 
him and get him in shape to drive.” 


i8o 


Rockton. 


“Can he go?” asked Bernard. 

“Go?” put in Mr. Long. “He goes too 
much! Didn’t I tell you he ran away with us? 
I ’m going to walk home and save my precious 
neck.” 

“He can go a little, I admit,” said Mr. Ar- 
mour; “but he is as ‘kind as a kitten,’ and I 
would trust Miss Holt to drive him.” 

Doubtless he mentioned the name of this 
young woman for the reason that at that mo- 
ment she was coming towards the barn. As 
she came up, the horse, as if pleased with the 
compliment paid him, reached out his nose until 
it touched her sleeve, sniffed, and then gently 
whinnied. Nodding pleasantly to Mr. Long, 
she asked Mr. Armour: 

“Is this the gray you told me about?” 

An instantaneous photograph would have re- 
vealed a queerly knowing expression in Mr. 
Long’s eyes as he heard this question. Mr. 
Armour did not notice it. He was looking at 
Miss Sarah, and informing her that this was the 
identical gray horse. 

“Pray, what is his name?” she inquired. 

“Josephus,” he replied, “For short, I call 
him Joe He answers very well to either 
name.” 

It may here be said that Josephus was a 
rather remarkable animal. He was tall and 


More Fun and Some Horse-Sense. 181 

stongly made, and, though somewhat high in 
bone, was not gaunt. His clean head was well 
fitted to a long, thin, curving neck, and he car- 
ried it so high that a check was a superfluity. 
His deep-chested and well-made body was set 
on good, strong, clean legs, which were gathered 
well together under him as he stood to be ad- 
mired. His color was dapple-gray, and he had 
a dark mane and tail. 

Mr. Armour told his story while the little 
group looked him over. He said. 

u The first time I saw him lie was in a dump- 
cart. He was long-haired, and very poor for 
lack of keeping, and was covered with wales 
from unmerciful whippings. His more brutish 
owner said he was a contrary brute and no good. 
He also said he was so ugly in the stable that 
he would like to sell him if he could find a man 
fool enough to give anything for him. I had 
no desire to distinguish myself as a fool, but I 
had been thinking of buying a horse. I saw 
that this one was quite young; and though he 
had a bad leg, caused by a kick from another 
horse, and had suffered from cruel treatment 
and neglect, he was still as sound as a dollar. 
I knew by his head that he had brains, and 
naturally was of a good disposition. I was con- 
fident that if he showed any ugliness it was due 
entirely to ill-usage. I was satisfied, from his 


182 


Rockton. 


appearance, that he*had ‘the go 1 in him, and 
that decent treatment would make him all right. 
He was a hard-looking specimen though, and 
most people would have said he was not worth 
twenty-five dollars. The man asked forty dol- 
lars. He said he could pull like the -mischief 
when he had a mind to. This he admitted was 
not often. I offered thirty dollars for what was 
left of him. At length he split the difference, 
and I paid thirty-five dollars, and had him led 
out to the farm and put him in charge of my 
brother for treatment, who laughed at my trade 
but confirmed my judgment. You can all see 
what has come of my venture. I wished for a 
first-class roadster, and here he is. Twelve 
miles an hour over our hilly roads is play for 
him, and he never seems in the least tired. He 
never sees a hill unless I insist upon it, and he 
can walk my legs off in less than an hour ; for 
he is altogether the fastest walker I have seen. 
I will show you something how knowing he is.” 

Here he unhitched him and started him off 
at a word. When he had gone nearly to the 
corner of the street, it needed but another word, 
and he stopped short. He then as readily obeyed 
the signal to back around, and returned to his 
master and stood looking at him as if he were 
asking, “What next?” 

After a few more displays of his docility and 


More Fun and Some Horse-Sense . 183 

intelligence, Mr. Armour called him up to the 
post and tied him, saying: 

“Brother William never tied him. He says 
he will stand all day, and hungry, too, without 
it; but I never leave any horse without this 
precaution.” 

He then took a “grip” from the wagon, and 
said to Miss Sarah: 

“ I have a bit of business to attend to. Won’t 
you allow me, please, to take Master Bernard 
into a room and get him into his uniform?” 

To the request Sarah readily assented, and 
led the way into the house. 

It was not a very long time for the other 
boys to wait, eager as they were, before Mr. 
Armour came back, followed by Bernard, evi- 
dently not a little vain of his new rig. It was 
a dark-blue suit throughout — blue stockings, 
knee-breeches, a shirt with a sailor’s collar, and 
a soft felt hat to match. Around his slim waist 
was a broad, buff-colored leather belt. The rest 
of the boys at once gathered, admiring, around 
the proud little fellow, and good-naturedly ban- 
tered him on his appearance. Mr. Armour ex- 
plained that he had found it about the most dif- 
ficult task he had ever undertaken to select a 
uniform, and that he had been able to think of 
nothing more appropriate. He told the boys he 
had first thought of something in the style of a 


184 


Rockton. 


fatigue-cap for the head-gear, but, on the whole, 
he had concluded that hats would be preferable 
for the service to which they were to be put. 
When the boys had all chorused repeatedly their 
entire satisfaction, he said : 

“I have seen the parents of all, and they 
have entirely and heartily approved. By their 
direction, I am to take the rest of you down to 
Mr. Hunt, the clothing dealer at the Center, and 
he will measure you and have the suits ready 
for you next Saturday, at noon. It will not 
take many minutes to attend to this part of the 
business with Josephus to help us; so, pile in, 
you four, two on the seat and two behind, and 
we will be off.” 

Didn’t they pile in! Mr. Armour untied 
the horse and stepped in himself. Josephus 
tossed his head, as if to say, “See how I will 
do it,” and was off at a spanking trot, which 
put the merry party out of -sight in a moment. 

Hardly had the sound of the wheels died 
away, when Miss Holt called for Bernard. 

“Come into the house, and we will get up a 
surprise of our own while they are away,” she 
said. 

When he obeyed her request, she asked him 
to go into the room he had used before, and 
change the new outer shirt for his jacket, and 
bring it to her. This done, she told him to sit 


More Fun and Some Horse-Sense. 185 

down, and watch what she would do. Now, 
this rather remarkable young woman, with her 
other accomplishments, was quite skillful in em- 
broidery, and could make her fingers and sewing- 
machine “do just anything she pleased,” — at 
least Edward said so. 

As she sat down before her machine, she at- 
tached the embroiderer, and, opening one of the 
drawers, took out some spools of silk, and, in a 
very short time, had the machine clicking away 
at a furious rate. Bernard sat in almost breath- 
less wonder while “ things just flew,” as he told 
her when she had finished. This she did by the 
time Josephus had wheeled the gleeful party 
back again. When she arose, she held up her 
work with evident satisfaction to herself; for 
she nodded her bright head at it, as if to say, 
“You’ll do.” Telling Bernard to go into the 
room and make one more change, she flitted 
into the buttery, and then out into the yard to 
caress Josephus, who whinnied again as he saw 
her coming, and daintily took the lump of sugar 
she offered him on her open palm. 

It was not very long before Bernard made 
his appearance, and was greeted with a shower 
of exclamations and questions. Mr. Armour so 
far forgot himself as to indulge in a whistle of 
astonishment, and his eyes made one of their 

occasional notes. How even a smart young 
16 


Rockion. 


186 

woman could have accomplished so much in so 
short time, was a wonder; but the boys thought 
the work itself a still greater wonder. 

Around the collar of Bernard’s new blue 
shirt she had put a yellow band, and in each 
corner a five-pointed star. On each shoulder 
there was a neat shoulder knot. Around the 
cuffs there was a band matching the collar. On 
the left side of the front there was a beautiful 
white lily, while on the other side there was a 
five-pointed yellow star. How Mr. Long grinned, 
and getting behind the young woman’s back, 
made a speech to the boys in pantomime that 
fairly convulsed them ! Mr. Armour said some- 
thing in a low tone, and this, or the sunshine, 
made her face look a trifle rosy. Speaking loud 
enough to be heard, he asked her to explain her 
work to the boys. Now, as before intimated, 
Miss Sarah was not inclined to little preach- 
ments, but she told the boys that she put the 
white lily on the left side, hoping they might re- 
member it as an emblem of purity, and try and 
keep their hearts pure; and that she intended 
the five-pointed star as the special badge of The 
Quintet, and hoped it would shine brightly in 
good deeds. 

Adolphus chivalrously proposed that Miss 
Sarah A. Holt be made a life patron of their 
club, which went through with double-handed 


More Fun and Some Horse-Sense. 187 

unanimity, for each boy shoved up all his digits 
as high as he could, and Jabez Long did the 
same. Seeing him do this, and perhaps re- 
minded by his stomach, Benjamin Strong moved 
that, “Whereas and inasmuch as Mr. Jabez 
Long furnished the first refreshments The Jolly 
Quintet ever enjoyed in its collective capacity, 
and is in all respects its generous friend, he be 
elected one of its life patrons.” This passed 
by a unanimous vote and an encore, Mr. Ar- 
mour. said, and then called on the newly made 
life patrons for speeches. Mr. Long dodged out 
of the door, but Miss Sarah said : 

“We life patrons ought to do something for 
The Jolly Quintet, which has conferred such 
high honors upon us. For my part, if the boys 
will go for their suits early Saturday afternoon, 
and will bring them to the house, I will em- 
broider them like this Bernard has on, and will 
also put a narrow stripe or cord on the outer 
seam of the trousers. Mr. Long, for his part, 
and to punish him for dodging a speech, shall 
furnish the silk.” 

At the close off these very satisfactory re- 
marks, Adolphus pulled of his cap, and called 
for three rousing cheers for the first life patron 
of The Quintet; after which Mr. Armour said: 

“I will drive Josephus down to the Center, 
Saturday noon, and get the suits, and bring 


i88 


Rockton. 


them to our most efficient and respected life 
patron.” 

On hearing this promise, Bernard, with great 
gravity, proposed that Josephus should also be 
made a life patron, which was as gravely voted, 
and followed with the usual cheers. This time 
Josephus whinnied a response, as if he under- 
stood that he had been honored; or was it a 
horse-laugh at their nonsense? 

When, at this point in the proceedings, Mr. 
Holt drove up, old Charley looked suspiciously 
at the unusual crowd, but suffered himself to be 
unharnessed and led into his ample stall; where, 
with supreme indifference to anything else, he 
proceeded to munch his supper, and perhaps 
afterward to meditate on the inferiority of all 
two-legged races. 

Miss Sarah informed all concerned that tea 
would be ready in precisely fifteen minutes, and 
then slipped away to make her promise good. 
There is no need of describing the scene around 
that big extension-table, made by Mr. Holt’s 
own hands, and this evening drawn out to its 
fullest extent. “ Flaky biscuit?” Yes. “Splen- 
did butter?” Yes. “ Stacks of cake, dear to a 
boy’s eye and taste?” Yes. “The nicest of 
preserves, equally dear?” Yes. Everything 
was “just splendid,” if what all the boys said, 
and the men looked, may be believed. 


More Fun and Some Horse- Sense. 189 

Mr. Holt sat on one side of the table, and 
Mrs. Holt opposite. He declared lie never 
would sit at one end of his table and have his 
wife away at the other end. He wanted her 
where he could see her easily, and wished him- 
self to be where he could look after everybody 
else. Mr. Armour sat at one end and Mr. Long 
at the other, the boys filling the spaces be- 
tween — and the other spaces within. Adolphus, 
with great gallantry, made a place for Miss 
Sarah beside himself; which precocious maneu- 
ver caused sundry nudges and jealous side- 
glances among the residue of The Quintet, and 
ornamented Mr. Armour’s face with one of the 
broadest of comical smiles. 

As a matter of course there was much talk 
concerning future tramps; but nothing very defi- 
nite was proposed until Adolphus said that Miss 
Barber had told him that probably the next 
Thursday the most of the rooms in the school- 
building would be closed, in order that the 
teachers might visit other schools. This an- 
nouncement unloosed a mimic Babel of tongues. 
After the boys had proposed, suggested, and 
wished all they could think of, they appealed to 
Mr. Armour to decide. He said : 

“If there is to be no school on Thursday, 
and you can be spared from home, you may 
meet me at Mr. Holt’s barn at eight o’clock.” 


Rockton. 


190 

“Where will we go?” all interruptingly 
chorused. 

“No matter now,” he replied. “You obey 
orders. Every one of you bring a generous 
luncheon of bread, neatly done up. No butter 
on it, remember. Butter is very good, but when 
spread on bread and grown warm, it is spoiled 
and spoils the bread. If you bring any cake, 
let it be of a plain kind, and only one slice.” 
Here Benjamin made a wry face. “ Edward 
will bring, besides his luncheon, a piece of fat, 
salt pork, as big as my fist,” and he held up a 
clenched hand that made every boy laugh. 
“Mind, Edward, that it is wiped dry, and rolled 
up in enough paper to prevent its soiling any- 
thing else. All other fixings I will have on 
hand.” 

Then, turning to Mr. Holt, he asked: 

“May I leave Josephus for that day in your 
barn, and will you give him a dinner?” 

“Yes, and a supper besides,” was the reply. 

The boys were greatly excited and full of 
inquisitiveness ; but their tall friend gave no 
further hint of his intentions. At a quarter to 
eight he said : 

“I think it is time to go. I am sure Jo- 
sephus will be delighted to wind up this ex- 
ceedingly good time by taking us home.” 


More Fun and Some Horse-Sense. 19 i 

Mr. Long demurred. He said: 

“I’ve told you I have a special regard for 
my neck.” 

It was, however, of no use ; for he was told 
that the “Great Emporium” needed his pres- 
ence right away, and he must ride. 

Josephus was soon at the front gate. Mr. 
Holt, with his wife and Sarah and Edward, 
stood in the porch to say good-bye. Mr. Armour 
and Mr. Long, with Bernard squeezed between 
them, were on the front seat, while the rest of the 
boys were stowed in behind. Then four glee- 
ful, boyish voices gave three gleeful cheers, 
while two men waved their hats, and Josephus 
whinnied. 

Then a full, pleasant voice said: 

“Go on, Joe.” 

And he went ! with the boys laughing out of 
their full hearts, and Mr. Jabez Long holding on 
to the seat as if for dear life. 




CHAPTER X. 

SOMETHING BETWEEN WHILES. 

T7R0M that memorable Wednesday after- 
-L noon, around to the second Thursday 
morning following, was a very long time for 
our five eager boys to wait, as every one 
will allow who was ever a boy, and fond of 
boyish fun. But the days of their waiting 
were by no means idle days in Rockton. This 
story is of necessity narrowed to a few of the 
doings of a few boys. Rockton was full of boys 
and girls, and to write ten lines about each of 
them and their friends would make a book so 
appallingly big that no publisher in the whole 
world would dare print it. Neither could all 
Rockton be busy with the affairs of The Jolly 
Quintet. Even Mr. Armour had many other 
and very weighty things on his hands. He often 
said, he could find work enough for fifty men, 
if he could find the men willing to do it. While 
the history herein narrated was being made, 
192 


Something Between Whiles . 193 

even the few men, women, and boys who figure 
in it were doing a great many other things — and 
of greater importance too — which will never be 
thus recorded. 

It will probably be remembered that Annis 
Crab once called Mr. Armour “ queer.” Rock- 
ton — and especially that part of it known as 
Northville — had for some time been settled 
down in the firm couviction that he was very 
different from a great many other men. More- 
over it seemed to be quite well pleased with the 
fact. 

To say that everybody liked this tall, “ queer” 
man might not be the exact truth ; nevertheless 
it would not be an easy task to find a half-dozen 
people with hardihood enough to express a dis- 
like. Even Annis Crab would smile longer 
after he had smiled at her than she would if 
any other man looked at her. Granny Norcross 
everybody knew to be an inveterate growler; 
but she would hobble out into the front yard on a 
pleasant day for the chance to speak with him, if 
she happened to see him coming down the street. 

William Murch, the burly blacksmith, whose 
shop is on Cedar Street, and who, sad to say, 
had long been a bruiser and drunkard, and very 
profane, and who, as a natural consequence, had 
been in the habit of abusing his betters, was 
deferentially polite to Mr. Armour, And this 
17 


194 


Rockton. 


was not all ; this “ turrubble man,” as Granny 
Norcross called him, actually reformed ! Rock- 
ton never got over this wonder. 

One day Murch had gathered quite a crowd 
around him on a street-corner, and was cursing, 
swearing, and berating everybody. Mr. Armour 
came along, heard him a moment, and then 
pushed his way through the crowd, and gave 
the profane bully a “ dressing down ” in a clear, 
level voice, the like of which no one who list- 
ened had ever heard before. The great, hulking 
sot and blasphemer was cowed and shamed, 
and slunk away. Then this “queer” man 
turned upon the crowd who had been listening 
and laughing at Murch’s foulness, and gave 
them, if possible, a more scathing “ dressing 
down ” for abetting his wickedness. 

Some months after this, Murch was in his 
shop, and, for a marvel, sober. It was a rainy 
day, and quite a group of his cronies had gath- 
ered in his shop for shelter from the wet, and 
to while away a dreary hour. Murch was ham- 
mering away at a red-hot iron he was fashion- 
ing into a horse-shoe, when Mr. Armour, who 
was on his way up the street, halted at the door 
long enough to say, “Good afternooon, Mr. 
Murch ; glad to see you making the sparks 
fly,” and then, with his frank smile, was gone. 

No sooner was his back turned than one of 


Something Between Whiles. 195 

the rough crowd made some rude remark in a 
low tone, which Murch heard, and instantly 
he blazed up hotter than his forge fire, and said : 

“ You jest shet up ! He ’s a squar’, good 
man, an’ doin’ lots of good.” 

“ Hike ter know what good he ’s done?” the 
fellow grunted, eying Murch in astonishment. 

“ He told me the truth about my deviltry 
when you fellers were eggin’ me on,” replied 
the incensed blacksmith. “ And that ain’t all. 
He ’s tried since to do me good. When my wife was 
getting up from the fever my cussid ways brought 
on her, an’ the doctor said she ought ter ride out 
an’ git the air to help her along, what did he do 
but come round with a nice, big, easy carriage ” — 
this was before Josephus made his appearance 
in Rockton — “I don’t know where he got it; 
s’pose he hired an’ paid for it— an’ he just took 
wife an’ all the children ” — there were several 
young Marches — “out for a good, long ride. The 
very last time I went on a tear, he found me an’ 
got me home, and then stuck by me till I so- 
bered off. Yes, siree! Any man who says any- 
thing agin’ him will have me in his hair! I ’in 
bust if I hain’t a mind to squar’ round, as he told 
me to, an’ be a man.” 

“What! Heave off drinkin’ an’ swearin’?” 
asked the most courageous of his hearers. 

“Yes, siree?” was the answer, and the big 


196 


Rockton. 


hammer came down on the fast cooling iron with 
a mighty thud. 

“ You dassen’t,” sneered the loafer. 

This was altogether too much for Murch. 
He dropped his hammer, and coming nearer the 
group, he said : 

“ Look here, boys ! Sam Smith says I dassen’t 
quit. Hain’t I dared to git drunk as a fool? 
Hain’t I dared ter swear, an’ fight, an’ abuse 
my fam’ly like a brute ; an’ hain’t I dared to be 
a disgrace an’ cuss to this naberhood for years?” 
Every one of this string of questions he empha- 
sized by bringing his huge right fist down into 
the palm of his left hand. As all were silent, 
and looking at him in this new mood, almost in 
terror, he broke out again : “ Why do n’t yer 

answer me? Hain’t I dared to do all these?” 

“Yer have, Bill, sartin’ true!” said old Mal- 
achi Barnes, who was just then coming in with 
a trace-chain that needed welding ; “ and it ’s 
high time you quit !” 

“That’s what I jest told the boys!” Murch 
replied, “ an’ Sam Smith says I dassen’t.” Then 
turning to the crowd, he said: “And yer jest 
stand up, every one of you !” Utterly amazed, 
they all got up. Murch continued : “ Now, 

you all hear me 1 No more drink for me ! 
I’m jest going to turn squar’ round! I’ll put 
on a clean shirt an’ go ter meetin’ Sundays I 


Something Between Whiles. 197 

There ’s my little wife ! God bless her ” — and his 
great voice softened and faltered — “ she ’s the 
best wife ever tied to a brute! I’ll git her an’ 
the little ones out of that shanty in the back 
yard ! I ’m goin’ ter be respectable an’ good ! 
Yer may jest tell all the town !” 

It may have been a strange, it was a very happy 
occurrence, that as he began this last speech, 
a slight, sorrowful-looking woman was coming 
into the shop by the rear door, and heard every 
word of it. All the geniuses who ever wrote, 
take them together, could not paint the marvel- 
ous transformations in her face while she list- 
ened. At the first tones of her husband’s loud 
voice there was a dark shadow on it, as if she 
feared the worst ; then came a puzzled, doubtful 
expression ; then a hope-light broke through 
the shadow ; then all color faded out as though 
she was about to faint; then over all her fea- 
tures came a surge of color and unspeakable 
gladness. When she heard the last words, her 
look of mingled thankfulness and joy was fairly 
dazzling — Malachi Barnes afterwards said: “It 
lighted up the whole shop.” 

Whatever she came for was forgotten, and 
never afterwards could she remember the er- 
rand. All she could say was, “O Bill!” but ten 
thousand angels could not put more rapture into 
a hallelujah. “ Bill ” turned at the word, and 


198 


Rockton . 


was by her side in a moment. Putting bis arm 
around her, be drew her forward until both were 
standing in the midst of the now thoroughly 
excited men. 

“ Did yer hear me, Mollie ?” he asked. 

She looked up into his face too full of her 
great joy to speak again, and nodded. The big 
fellow stooped and kissed her, and then said : 
“God helping me, I’ll do jest what I’ve said I 
would.” 

There was another listener. Mr. Armour, 
on his way back from somewhere, caught the 
sound of the strident voice of the blacksmith. 
He stopped out of sight beside the door, where, 
under his dripping umbrella, he heard the 
words which filled Mrs. Murch with so great 
joy. He now came in, and walking up to Mr. 
Murch, grasped him by thf hand, and said: 

“This is a grand start. You are headed 
right. Go 011, and all good people will stand 
by you.” 

Sam Smith said it was the wettest time he’d 
ever seen. Murch sobbed and cried, the tears 
streaking his smutty face. His wife cried softly, 
and O, so gladly! A delightful sun-shower! 
Malachi Barnes just blubbered aloud like a well- 
whipped school-boy. Every loafer, even to 
Sam Smith, sniffed, sniveled, or cried. Mr. Ar- 
mour’s voice was husky, and he wiped his shin- 


Something Between Whiles. 199 

iiig eyes with the back of his hand precisely as 
he would if he were crying too. Yes, it was a 
very wet time ; and it caused a spring-time of 
tender joy, that grew at length into the wealth 
of a radiant summer of delight. 

On the very day The Jolly Quintet were tak- 
ing their first, so to speak, corporate tramp, 
there was an empty tenement behind the shop, 
where Mr. Murcli was singing in a thunderous 
bass, and pounding iron from morning until 
night. There had been a flitting that all Rock- 
ton had been interested in. Then, too, the Mrs. 
Murcli, that Rockton had known for years, was 
gone forever! Not that there had been a 
funeral ; things were altogether too jolly for 
that ! The Mrs. Murcli who came smiling 
into the shop, was a bright, plump, little woman, 
who stepped around as lively as the proverbial 
cricket. Mr. Murch looked at this new Mrs. 
Murcli with great admiration. How could he help 
it? She was so lovely and so well dressed ! And 
the old Mrs. Murch, seeing she was gone forever, 
did n’t care one bit. This new Mrs. Murch 
came in to tell the very lover-like Mr. Murch, 
that the last bit of work in getting the new 
home “ all fixed up,” was done, and she was 
out just for the fun of walking around with 
nothing else to do. And what did the great big 
fellow do but off with his leather apron, souse 


200 


koCKTON ; 


hands, arms, and head in a tub of water, and 
then rub them until they shone. Then he on 
with coat and hat, and, without the least regret 
for the old Mrs. Murch — as has been said, now 
gone forever — insisted on taking this smiling, 
dimpling, girlish, new Mrs. Murch down to the 
center of Rockton, where he treated her to a set 
of China that made half the women in North- 
ville envious for three months after. 

It has been said that there was a great deal 
going on while our Quintet were forced to wait 
for that extra Thursday. 

Mr. Armour had, in his peculiar way, to look 
after many boys and girls. The Saturday fol- 
lowing that “ good time ” on Ridge Street he 
had half the girls and boys of Northville with 
him in a delightful walk to a small grove he 
had discovered, where there was plenty of shade, 
and a spring of clear, cool water. Here they 
frolicked until they were satisfied, and then who 
should appear but four of The Quintet, tugging 
along two enormous baskets of sandwiches that 
Mr. Armour had found somebody to provide, 
and that Adolphus Grant’s father had brought 
with the boys in his express wagon, to the edge 
of the grove. 

Quite a number of Northville mothers, having 
got their Saturday’s work largely done, came out 
to see the fun, and admire the healthy voracity of 


Something Between Whiles. 


201 


their children, as the sandwiches disappeared 
with marvelous celerity. Besides these, there 
were some elder sisters, and Annis Crab came 
ont to see “ the scrape,” of course. But why 
should n’t she ? She furnished two loaves of just 
the whitest and nicest bread ; moreover, she 
prepared more sandwiches than any one else. 

Mr. Jabez Long came up, fanning himself 
furiously with his straw hat, just in time to see 
the last boy filled, and to capture a sandwich for 
himself. As he bit a huge semicircle out of its 
side, Annis asked him how he could afford to 
leave “ The Great Emporium ” on Saturday aft- 
ernoon. Our droll friend chuckled while he 
munched, and told her that the kind Providence 
that watched over old maids and old bachelors 
had provided him with a first-class saleswoman, 
who would do a smashing business in his absence. 
This has incidentally something to do with our 
story, and may need a little explanation. 

The Thursday morning immediately follow- 
ing the never-to-be-forgotten “ good time ” on 
Ridge Street, Adolphus Grant was on his way to 
Mr. Long’s on an errand for his mother. It 
was quite early, and he met Bernard Walters 
with a basket of freshly washed and ironed 
clothes perched on his little wagon. “ Hey, 
Brick,” he said ; “ business must be rushing to 
have you delivering goods so early.” 


202 


Rockton. 


Usually Bernard is a bright, good-natured 
boy, and brimful of healthy fun ; but this 
morning he was dumpish and sad. As he 
looked at Adolphus, his chin quivered and his 
face was full of woe-begoneness and sorrow. 

“ Why, old fellow, you look bad ; what ’s the 
matter with you ?” Adolphus asked. 

“ N-notliing with me,” was the reply. 

“What is the matter, then?” 

“ M-mother has got a bad hand,” answered 
Bernard, quite ready to cry. 

And then he told the story of his sorrow as 
best he could ; how his mother had been 
troubled with her fingers for several days, but 
had kept at work because there was a great 
press of work caused by the recent long rainy 
spell ; how her hand had pained her so much 
she could scarcely use it at all ; how she had 
been able to sleep but a few moments at a time 
for three nights ; how, on the day before, she 
just managed to finish the batch he then had on 
his wagon, and when this was done, went to see 
Doctor Blood, who said she had a felon, and 
that it had been neglected so long there was 
nothing to do but open the finger with his 
lancet, and make thorough work of it. Tears 
ran down his cheeks while he told the story. 

“ I wish I had it on my hand instead of 
mother’s,” he said, his eyes full of pain and love. 


Somewhat Between Whiles. 203 

When still further questioned by Adolphus, 
he told him how the lancing of the finger had 
brought relief, and how his mother, worn out by 
the pain she had suffered, was soundly sleeping; 
and how he got up as quietly as he could, and 
started the fire, and now was taking Mrs. 
Waite’s washing home because he knew his 
mother wished it done. When he had thus told 
his story, he picked up the tongue of his wagon 
and sadly hauled it away. 

When Adolphus entered Mr. Long’s store, 
that estimable man saw the shadow on his 
young friend’s face, and, possessed as he was of 
an inquiring mind, it was not many minutes be- 
fore Bernard’s story was repeated to him. 

“Hum-m-m!” he said to himself, after Adol- 
phus was gone. U I wonder — ” and then he 
went around the store with a wrinkle of deep 
thought between his eyes. Customers were not 
very plenty after the children, on their way to 
school, had done their errands, or made a few 
small purchases for themselves. He went on put- 
ting things to right about the store in a methodical 
but mechanical way, that allowed him to indulge 
in a very long and a very brown, brown study. At 
about half-past ten o’clock he was rolling up the 
piece of red flannel he had been showing to a 
woman whose husband, being the “skipper” of 
a “coaster,” will not wear at sea shirts made of 


204 


Rockton. 


any other material, when he stopped short, and 
his face broke into a smile. He nodded his head 
in his characteristically sagacious way, as if 
complimenting himself for his genius, slapped 
his fat thigh sharply, and ejaculated : 

“Sure as guns, it’s just the thing!” 

And then, as if there might possibly be a 
little uncertainty lurking somewhere in the 
matter, he added: 

“I’ll try it on, see if I don’t!” 

Then he called out: 

“Sue! Sue!” 

Sue is his niece, and was book-keeper and 
general assistant about the establishment, but 
who, on account of her own private affairs, the 
nature of which will shortly be disclosed, had 
been absent from her post more than half the 
time for several weeks. 

“What is it?” she asked from the desk at 
the rear of the store, where she was posting the 
books. 

“You just look after this concern while I 
am out,” he replied, at the same time jamming 
his hat resolutely on his head and making tracks 
for the door, through which he instantly disap- 
peared. In a very short time, for a man of his 
build and habits, he was on Linden Street, and 
rapping at Mrs. Walters’s door. There must 
have been some matter of considerable impor- 


Somewhat Between Whiles . 205 

tance under consideration, for it was nearly an 
hour before he came out and walked slowly 
back to the store. The result of his visit must 
have been quite satisfactory; for Annis Crab, 
who saw him as he went by, said to her mother: 

“There goes Jabez Eong. He looks might- 
ily tickled about something.” 

This “something” became a public posses- 
sion almost immediately. 

Mrs. Walters appeared, “bright and early,” 
on Friday morning, in the “Great Emporium.” 
She bought nothing; but, with a smiling face, 
went behind the counter where Sue — laughing 
and giggling, as young women will — and delight- 
fully, too, proceeded to initiate her into the 
mysteries of the business. Mr. Long, it seems, 
did not know that she had learned much of 
these mysteries while her husband was alive. 

The next Monday morning, when Solomon 
Whagg dropped in on his customary rounds, he 
stared at the comely widow as she was busy 
straightening laces, and was too much surprised 
for the smallest kind of a joke. When she had 
gone to the farther part of the store to consult 
with Sue, he looked a half-dozen questions at 
Mr. Eong at once, which this accommodating 
gentleman proceeded to answer. 

“You see, that niece of mine is so anxious 
to better her condition in life, that she has 


206 


Rockton. 


promised young Henry Fall, down at the 
Center — ” 

“Everybody knows that,” interrupted Sol- 
omon. 

“Of course everybody knows it,” continued 
Jabez; “but everybody don’t know they are 
going to be married in about six weeks ; and 
Henry has bought the new cottage that Mr. 
Holt built on Blossom Street, and they are 
going to keep house there. Sue has pestered me 
for weeks. She has been over there more than 
half her time, fixing things up. I wonder some 
one has not found her out. What to do to fill 
her place I could not for the life of me tell. 
As good luck would have it, Mrs. Walters got 
a convenient felon on her finger that shut down 
on her business for awhile. I saw my chance, 
and clinched a bargain with her at once.” 

“Smart woman,” commented Solomon ap- 
provingly. 

“Smart? You’ve just hit it,” said Jabez. 
“Just look at those shelves! Takes to this 
business as ‘a duck does to the water.’ Beats Sue 
all hollow; and Sue is a good, smart girl too.” 

Mr. Long was not far out of the way in his 
eulogy. He who saw Mrs. Walters about the 
store saw a trim, energetic, sweet-faced little 
woman, who won the hearts of all Mr. Long’s 
customers, not excepting Granny Norcross, wlio } 


Somewhat Between Whiles. 207 

perhaps, because of the natural contrariness of 
her disposition, declared that she was “ harn- 
sumer than that gigglin’ Sue;” which remark, 
when it was repeated to Sue, only made her 
giggle the more. Only a neat-fitting cot on the 
first finger of Mrs. Walters’s right hand told 
anything about the felon All the rest of her 
shapely fingers were so nimble and dexterous as 
to promise astonishing results when the other 
should complete its rapid recovery. Bernard 
was delighted, and more frolicksome than ever. 
It was evident Edward Holt would have no 
further occasion to run errands for Mr. Eong. 


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CHAPTER XI. 

THAT THURSDAY— THE START. 

the days were going slowly by, and 
Thursday was so tardily approaching, 
our young friends held several sessions in 
“ committee of the whole,” and sagely de _ 
bated the probable nature of the excursion 
ft* which Mr. Armour had promised. Perhaps 
the slight mystery which hung over it made 
their anticipations all the more delightful. Ben- 
jamin thought that they were not to go a great 
way or be gone a very long time, else they 
would have been instructed to take more “grub.” 
Edward thought it might be possible that they 
were to go hunting ’coons or rabbits from the 
fact that when Mr. Armour brought the suits to 
his sister to be decorated, he also left in her care 
a box which had a label on it, on which he saw 
the words ‘ Pocket Rifle.” Bernard suggested 
that it might be a tramp to “Cannon Rock,” 

and gave as his reason, that he had recently 
208 



That Thursday— The Start. 209 

heard Mr. Armour tell Mr. Long that it was 
well worth the long walk required to see it. 
James, with supreme indifference, allowed he 
didn’t “care a snap ” where they might go, or 
what they might do, so long as they should go 
somewhere, and have a good time. Finally all 
agreed to the inevitable, and concluded they 
would just wait and see. For not a boy 
thought it would be of the least use to ask Mr. 
Armour as to his intentions. 

The letter-carrier for the Northville District 
left at each boy’s house, on Tuesday, a postal- 
card on which was written the following note : 

“ My Young Friend, — What time I spend 
with you can not all be given to play. I have some 
work for you. Meet me at Mr. Long’s to-morrow, 
at four o’clock, sharp. 

‘‘Herbert Armour.” 

Not a boy was missing when the lieutenant 
laughingly called the roll, five minutes before 
the hour appointed. When Mr. Armour ap- 
peared, all were ready to obey the order to “ fall 
in” except James, who, in responsive eagerness, 
fell out in his usual maladroit way. They 
were led around onto Cedar Street, and halted 
beside a cord of wood, sawed and split, which 
had been dumped on the sidewalk in front of 
the little cottage, the house of Mr. Alfred Brown, 


210 


Rockton. 


who, as before related, was badly disabled by 
a fall. Having shown the boys the wood, 
Mr. Armour led them through the little yard 
into the ell of the cottage, which was partly 
used as a shed. Here they found little Mamie 
Brown who looked at them fearlessly out of her 
blue eyes. This may be largely due to the 
fact that Mr. Armour, instantly had her in his 
arms. 

“ What is this midget of mine doing here, 
all alone?” he asked. 

“ Havin’ a pitnit,” replied the mite, and 
nodded her head knowingly. 

“ Are you having a good time?’ asked 
Adolphus. 

“ Yeth,” she lisped. 

“What did you have to eat?” inquired Ben- 
jamin, true to his instincts. 

“O sumfin’ nice,” and she smacked her bits 
of lips, and asked in return : 

“ Dont ’oo with ’oo had thum too?” 

“You be kind enough to tell us what you 
had, Mamie, and then we will know what a 
treat we have missed,” said Mr. Armour. 

The midget looked at him gravely for a mo- 
ment, and then answered reflectively as if call- 
ing up one by one the various dainties on which 
she had feasted : 

“ O, I had beddy — an’ butty — an’ puddy.” 


That Thursday— The Start. 


21 i 


And then to make sure that her auditors should 
not think that she had been indulging in an al- 
together Barmecide feast, she added : “ But I 

didn’t have any butty or any puddy!” 

This “brought down the house” with such 
a roar, that she slipped down and out of Mr. 
Armour’s arms, and whisked into the house 
leaving him to show the boys where the wood 
was to be neatly piled, and to bid them strip off 
their jackets and be about it. Of course he did 
not stop to watch them; he had other business. 
Nothing was said by any of the boys about the 
morrow (and this was a marvelous self-re- 
straint) except that Adolphus, in as unconcerned 
a manner as he could possibly assume, asked 
just before he left them, what he thought the 
weather might be. 

The corners of the tall man’s mouth twitched 
suspiciously under his big mustache, but he 
answered in a tone of great indifference: 

“ I do n’t think it will storm very hard the 
next twenty-four hours.” And Adolphus dug 
into the wood-pile. The wood went in in a hurry. 
Three lugged and two piled, and they changed 
about to equalize the work, until the job was 
done. Moreover it was neatly done. 

Wee Mamie came out of hiding, and danced 
around to see the fun. When the last armful 
was piled up, and jackets were on again, and 


Rockton. 


212 

the boys were going out of the yard she stood 
in the doorway and piped after them : 

“Thank ’oo! ’Oo ’s dood boys. Thum time 
’oo may turn to my pitnit!” 

Perhaps some may think that Wednesday is 
rather an early start for a tramp on Thursday ; 
but it is in harmony with the advice given to 
his sons by a very old man who had been no- 
torious for being behindhand all his days: 

“ Boys, if you set a day to go anywhere, be 
sure and start the day before !” 

Doubtless this indirect start helped Thurs- 
day’s doings. If our boys had not done Wednes- 
day afternoon’s work they might have been 
awake nearly all the night thinking of the next 
day. As it was, they got a little tired, slept 
soundly, and woke up Thursday morning in 
proper season and “fresh as larks.” 

Long before eight o’clock there was a sweet 
jargon of voices in Mr. Holt’s big barn. Mr. 
Armour could not be far away, for Josephus 
had usurped old Charley’s place in the roomy 
box-stall. Edward insisted that his father had 
given orders to this effect. All the boys thought 
they were quite ready for the start. Each had 
brought his luncheon, neatly wrapped, which 
Miss Sarah had marked with his name, and 
carried into the house. In their eagerness this 
was forgotten. But they had a special inspec- 


That Thursday— The Start. 213 

tion to undergo. This was by Miss Barber, 
who declared that she “ could not resist the temp- 
tation to see the boys in their new toggery,” 
and had taken an early start, intending, of course, 
after The Quintet was gone, to coax Miss Sarah 
to accompany her in her school visitation at the 
Center. The promise to decorate the suits had 
been kept, and lilies, stars, and bands were con- 
spicuously displayed. 

Shortly before eight o’clock Mr. Armour 
came out of the house. He had a bundle of — 
well — something, carefully wrapped and bound 
with straps in such a way as to leave a long 
loop for carrying it. He also had another 
something, which appeared to be about ten 
inches square and one and a half inches thick — 
that is, if a thing can appear which does not 
appear at all — for this something was entirely 
covered with an enameled cloth case. He had 
still another something, in a stiff leather case, 
the form of which was so suggestive that Ber- 
nard Walters at once said : 

“ It ’s a baby ax.” 

Mr. Armour called him a bright boy, and 
said : 

“ Your great power of discernment shall be 
rewarded. Unbuckle your belt, pass it through 
these loops, and buckle it on again. You shall 
be hatchet-bearer for the company.” He then 


214 


Rockton. 


directed Edward to fasten the square case to his 
belt in the same manner, which he did, hand- 
ling it the while with a puzzled, questioning 
look on his face. He was told he need not 
push his investigations any further, as he would 
be taught its use in due time. What the first 
bundle, so long and large around, contained, was 
a matter of profound speculation. Each offered 
to carry it, but Mr. Armour said it was his share 
of the “ traps.” 

By the time these arrangements had been 
made, Miss Sarah appeared on the scene, and 
not empty-handed, for she was dangling five 
enameled cloth pouches or wallets — something 
like soldiers’ haversacks, but on a smaller scale. 
These, she said, held the luncheons, small tin 
dippers, and old newspapers, and gave one to 
each boy. How to get them properly on was 
the next thing to be settled. They were for slip- 
ping the strap of the wallet over the head and 
across one shoulder, and let it hang by the 
side. But Mr. Armour stopped them, and said : 
“ There is a better way. Each strap has a 
buckle so the loop can be adjusted to suit the 
wearer.” He then showed them how to put 
both head and arms through the loop, thus 
bringing the strap across the back and under 
the arms with the wallet in front. Then, by 
passing the wallet backwards over the head, it 


That Thursday— The Start. 215 

was made to rest on the shoulders somewhat 
like a soldier’s knapsack, only it was higher up. 
This made it more easy to carry, while the strap 
at the same time would act as a shoulder-brace. 

When each had his wallet in place, it was 
discovered that on the lap of each had been 
painted the letters J. Q., while at the bottom, in 
much smaller letters, were the initials of the 
wearer. Mr. Armour stared, and — for truth 
must be told — whistled. Miss Holt laughed, 
and explained that when he brought them along 
with the suits, and put them in her care, it oc- 
curred to her that something of the sort might 
be done to give a finished look to the equip- 
ment, and under this impulse she had painted 
the letters. She further explained: 

“I thought the words ‘Jolly Quintet ’ would 
be too much of a good thing. I tried one with 
the initials, ‘J. Q.,’ and it pleased my fancy. 
We have the Y. M. C. A.’s, the W. C. T. U.’s, the 
I. O. O. F.’s, and the G. A. R.’s, and why not 
the J. Q.’s ? It will be short and slightly mys- 
terious to the uninitiated. 

“ Hurrah for the ‘ J. Q.’s !’ ” shouted Ben- 
jamin, while Miss Barber flourished her hand- 
kerchief, and declared she had always wished 
she was a boy, so she could make all the noise 
she liked. 

Mr. Armour tapped the bulging pockets ot 


216 


Rockton. 


his sack-coat, said he guessed nothing had been 
forgotten, threw the strap of the mysterious 
bundle over his shoulder, and led the boys out of 
the barn and down the steep street on which it 
faced. When they reached the road which runs 
from Northville around the west end of the 
ridge, they followed it to where it intersects an- 
other road, which comes up from Rockton Center. 
Here Mr. Armour called a halt, and said : 

“ We ’ll wait for the Plainfield stage. ” 

Plainfield is a fairly thriving agricultural 
town, the principal village of which is six miles 
north of Rockton Center, and, of course, just so 
far away from the railroad. Every week-day 
morning a stage conies down with the mail to 
meet the early trains east and west at Rockton, 
and returns at about eight o’clock. Not a boy, 
probably, could have been found in Rockton 
over seven years of age, who had not often seen 
this well-preserved relic of by-gone days and 
ways ; yet it is quite safe to say that the J. Q.’s 
did not possess a member who could boast that 
he had enjoyed a ride in it. Would n’t it be a 
treat? Even staid Adolphus threw up his hat 
in great glee. When it came click-clacking, see- 
sawing along behind a pair of big fat horses, it 
had only one passenger — a nice, motherly-look- 
ing old lady, who was on her way to Plainfield 
to visit a married daughter, as she told Mr, Ar- 


That Thursday— The Start. 217 

mour within a very few minutes. All the boys 
wished to ride on the seat with the driver — an 
evident impossibility. As there was a seat still 
higher up, Mr. White (why have there been so 
many stage-drivers of this name?) soon had four 
boys wedged into that, and Lieutenant Adolphus 
beside himself, on the box. Meanwhile Mr. 
Armour had stowed himself inside with the 
aforesaid nice old lady — “ for ballast,” he said — 
and, as above indicated, in ten minutes had a 
good part of her family history. 

The boys had a merry time. The venerable 
stage-coach clicked- clacked and see -sawed 
with rhythmic alliteration. The fat horses 
switched their tails, and jogged along as though 
they had nothing else to do but jog, switch flies, 
and listen to half-grown human nonsense. 

Mr. White was a little chunk of a man, 
with merrily twinkling eyes under shaggy and 
grizzly eyebrows, very red cheeks, and a fringe 
of white whiskers under his chin. Not only 
was he a little man, but he managed to say 
“ leetle ” at almost every breath. He was just 
a “leetle ” late that morning because he had a 
“ leetle ” more errands than usual to do. It 
was just a “ leetle ” warm, the road was a “ leetle ” 
sandy, and a “ leetle ” more hilly going up than 
coming down ; the pesky flies were a “ leetle ” 
bothersome, the “ critters ” were just a “ leetle ” 
19 


2 18 


Rockton. 


lazy ; he had a “leetle” larger load than usual, 
and he guessed he had better “ go a leetle slow,” 
and let them enjoy the ride, as the morning 
was a “leetle” nice; and, besides, he liked to 
have “ leetle men ” ride with him. If he had 
said “ leetle boys ” every mother’s son of the J. Q.’s 
would have been indignant; but as he qual- 
ified the “ leetle ” with the big-sounding little 
word men, every one felt honored — an excusa- 
ble weakness not altogether confined to boys. 

The morning was, as Mr. White said, a 
“ leetle nice.” It was not too hot, neither was 
it- a bit chilly for the boys on their high, swaying 
seat. A few fleecy clouds, snow-white in the 
sunshine, were tokens of a fair day with light 
winds. This road to Plainfield has but a few 
houses. The face of the country through which 
it runs is hilly, and shows, to the eye, great 
stretches of woods. As the coach, with its 
merry load, lumbered slowly along, squirrels on 
either side barked at it as an intruder. Here 
and there a rabbit started up by the roadside, 
hopped along before the jogging horses for a few 
rods, and then, with a parting flirt of its stumpy 
tail, disappeared in the underbrush. All was 
delightful. 

Mr. White not only was humorous, he was 
equally inquisitive. All stage-drivers appear to 
be relatives of the celebrated Paul Pry. He 


That Thursday— The Start. 219 

asked the boys if they were u young sailors,” 
and when Edward gravely told him they were 
The Northville J. Q.’s, the astonished and puz- 
zled oddity ejaculated, 

“ShoM Du tell!” 

Adolphus undertook to enlighten him more 
fully, and gave a sketch of the very short his- 
tory of The Quintet, every point of which was 
greeted with an incredulous “ sho ’ ! ” 

When they had ridden some three miles, and 
had come where a road branched to the east, 
Mr. Armour called to the driver to stop. The 
boys were a little surprised ; but as he got out, 
there was nothing for them to do but get down. 
When it came to settling with Mr. White, that 
worthy’s eyes twinkled faster than ever. He said 
he was a “ leetle ” inclined to think that the 
honor of driving for the J. O.’s on their first 
ride together was quite enough pay. If Mr. 
Armour wanted very badly to pay a “ leetle 
something” for himself, he might pass him up a 
quarter, but that was every cent he would take. 
Mr. Armour began to reason with him, but was 
cut short with : 

“ Do n’t you worry. They haven’t rid but a 
leetle ways. If I am satisfied, and the cattle 
don’t object, you needn’t complain.” 

So Mr. Armour passed up his quarter. The 
boys stood in line, and taking off their hats, gave 


220 


Rocicton. 


generous driver White a cheer. He cracked his 
whip, sang out, “Git up, there!” the old lady 
stuck her head out, shook her handkerchief, and 
said, “Good-bye,” and the coach went click- 
clacking and see-sawing away at its usual speed. 
Every boy looked at Mr. Armour. Every face 
asked, “What next?” “Now, my young heroes, 
we ’ve got to * frog it,’ ” he said, and led the way 
down the road to the east. This proved to be a 
cross-road, and but little used. When Adolphus 
asked where it led, he was told that it runs across 
the country for several miles until it intersects 
the county road leading north, and that they 
were to follow it about a mile and a quarter. 
After which they might expect the fun to begin. 
Just as though it had not been fun every mo- 
ment since the start! How they shouted! 
What races they ran ! Mr. Armour had to exert 
himself to be even the tail of the procession. 

As they climbed quite a hill and saw that the 
road dropped down into a valley beyond, Ben- 
jamin was for stopping awhile to dispose of his 
lunch, but the rest were eager to get on. Mr. 
Armour called all the boys about him, and asked 
if any one would lend him a jackknife. Ed- 
ward had left his at home. So had James, who 
said the old thing was n. g., for he had broken 
the blade trying to bore a hole in a board. 
Adolphus had a penknife which he offered for 


That Thursday— The Start: 


221 


use, but declared the blades were pewter. 
Bernard had one, but he “ guessed ” it would n’t 
cut — and he guessed correctly. 

When it was clearly proven that the J. Q.’s 
were really bankrupt in cutlery, Mr. Armour fished 
in his pockets and brought out for each boy a 
new knife — a good-sized, single-bladed jack- 
knife — and said this was Mr. Long’s contribu- 
tion towards their equipment. After a little 
time had been spent in admiring the knives, 
and they had been found to be properly ground, 
and ready for use, they were told they were quite 
near the end of their walk, as they were to stop 
at the first house. Down the hill they went and 
into the valley, and, at the same time, out of the 
woods and into a clearing, on the farther side of 
which stood a house. As he led them into its 
grass-grown yard, Mr. Armour said: “In a few 
moments more my little secret will be out.” 



CHAPTER XII. 


THE GREAT SECRET OUT. 

1 PTHE boys looked around in silent per- 
plexity. If they were within a few 
moments of the secret which for days had 
tantalized them, where was it? and what was 
it? Had Mr. Armour been playing a prac- 
Atical joke? Hardly probable. But what 
then? And each boy looked blankly at his 
mates. So far as could be seen, there was but 
small chance for any adventure. Several things 
they did see. There was an old one-story cot- 
tage-house standing broadside to the road, and 
half-hidden by a tangled growth of trees and 
shrubbery. Beyond this house, and partly be- 
hind it, w T as an old barn with its gable end 
towards the road ; its “ shaky” appearance giv- 
ing the impression that it had seriously made 
up its mind to a general collapse, and was 
only waiting a favorable moment for the ca- 
tastrophe. On the south side of this barn was 
a large cow-yard surrounded by a high stone 


The Great Secret Out. 223 

wall of such an unusual thickness and so solidly 
built as, at the first sight, to force the humorous 
conviction that, no matter what other things 
tumbled, it would stand forever. At the corner 
of this wall was a well with mossy curb, and an 
old-fashioned well-sweep. Everything — house, 
barn, well, and a dilapidated carriage of a non- 
descript pattern that might have come out of the 
Ark — everything in sight at least, was guiltless of 
paint. If anything about the premises had ever 
known a moment when it was new, at that 
precise moment it left off being so, and went 
about growing old and weatherbeaten just as 
fast as it could. 

As Mr. Armour and the boys walked noise- 
lessly over the grass towards the barn, not an- 
other human being was in sight. A fine calf 
tied to a stake, and a few sedate hens, appeared 
to hold entire possession. In a field beyond 
was a cow and a few more hens. Pausing for a 
moment, they heard a faint, scratching sound, 
coming from a shed in the rear of the house. 
When they looked in at the wide door of this 
shed, they saw a very short, very fat old man, who 
must have been at great pains to get himself 
into many clothes of a faded brown color ; for 
he was literally bundled up in them. His felt 
hat had its broad brim turned down all around, 
leaving only the tip of his nose and the lower 


224 


Rockton. 


part of liis stubby-bearded face in sight. He 
was sawing wood ; but the saw was moving so 
slow that Edward told Adolphus, in an aside, 
that he believed he would n’t get the stick he 
had on the horse sawed in an hour. This old 
oddity paid no attention to Mr. Armour or the 
boys, but slowly pushed the saw, helping it 
along by an occasional grunt. The balance of 
the time he evidently was talking to himself, 
but all that could be heard was, “Mum-m-mum- 
m-m-mum.” When Mr. Armour spoke to him 
he did not even lift his eyes, but scratched, 
grunted, and mumbled as before. As they turned 
from the shed, Bernard roguishly told Mr. Armour 
that his “ secret” evidently did n’t intend to give 
him away. But they were to be more successful 
with their next discovery. 

As they went towards the barn, a little dried- 
up specimen of humanity came out of it, and in 
a thin, squeaking voice, gave them greeting. 

“ H-liow dy-d-doo ! B-be-ben ’spectin’ ye ’d 
b-be a-l-long.” 

He was nearly as odd-looking as the over- 
dressed unintelligibility in the shed. He must 
have been between sixty and seventy years old, 
and was not taller than Adolphus. He was also 
narrow-chested and round-shouldered, and 
pinched and shrunken in appearance as if he 
had been kiln-dried, and all fat and moisture 


The Great Secret Out. 


225 


evaporated. He was dressed in a cotton shirt 
and blue overalls. The bottoms of the latter 
were tucked in his boots. All his scanty cloth- 
ing was noticeably clean. His straw hat was 
turned up behind and down before. Out of the 
weazened face, under it, blinked a pair of very 
light-blue eyes, which were held apart by a 
long, peaked nose, which overhung a little, 
puckered-up mouth. His scanty, white beard 
must have been untrimmed for years. As al- 
ready observed, he had a squeaking voice. Be- 
sides this, he stuttered convulsively, and had a 
habit of what might be called dry-spitting, some 
two or three times in almost every sentence. 
Later on, in the day, he told the boys some- 
thing of himself. How he was “b-borned” in 
the old house which his father built when a 
young man ; how, after he was “ out ” of his 
“time,” he worked for years as a “h-hossler” 
in the vicinity of “B-Bosting;” how he got 
kicked by a “ p-p-pesky hoss, and 1-like ter 
b-ben killed,” and was a long time getting 
round; how his father sent for him to come 
home, and how, as he was very old, and his 
brother was not “ v-very sus-sus-sosher-b-bul,” 
the old gentleman gave him the farm to stay and 
take care of them. When questioned as to the 
extent of this gift, he said he owned “ b-b-bout 
t-t-two hun-hundred a-acres,” the larger part 


226 


Rockton ; 


of which was woodland. Mr. Armour after- 
wards told the boys that the father of these odd- 
ities had been dead for years, and that they 
had continued to live together since that event, 
doing their own house-work, and grubbing along 
in a fashion entirely their own. But all this 
must be understood as information in advance. 

In reply to the stuttered and expectorated 
salutation of the little proprietor of the estab- 
lishment, Mr. Armour said : 

“Glad to see you this morning, Mr. Blake. 
I suppose you have all things ready for us?” 

“ Y-yes, sir,”' he answered, and going into 
the barn he brought out three paddles which 
were evidently “home-made,” having been 
roughly fashioned out of pieces of boards. 
Throwing these down he went back and brought 
out two old tin dishes, and said : 

“ Th-tho’t I-I m-m-might as w-well p-put 
th-ther b-bait in t-t-two d-dishes, s-so th-there ’d 
b-be one in e-each en-en-end of th-the b-b-boat.” 

“ Crickey, boys! It’s fishing!” squealed 
Benjamin, and jumped up and down in his 
delight. 

The secret was out. Fishing it was to be. 
But where was the water? Not one of the 
sharp-eyed J. Q.’s had seen pond or river. Mr. 
Armour told them that as the road did not run 
over the top of the hill, they had not been able 


The Great Secret Out. 227 

to see all there was in the valley, and directing 
three of the boys to carry the paddles, and the 
other two the dishes of bait, he led them around 
the barn and into the pasture. Briskly walking, 
in a few moments they had crossed it, and were 
in the woods and following a cart-path, which 
wound its way downward through the pines. 
Before Edward could ask how much farther they 
would have to go, Bernard, who had challenged 
Benjamin to race, and had darted on ahead, 
cried out, “Here it is!” 

Sure enough ! There it was. They had 
come to the shore of a pond large enough to be 
called a lake, if it had graced some localities. 
Though the trees grew almost to the water’s 
edge on the side where they stood, there was 
but little underbrush ; and there was a little strip 
of gravelly beach, with a broad, flat-bottomed 
boat drawn upon it, which Edward forthwith 
declared to be “ a scow.” 

The boys instantly piled their traps on a 
great flat rock, but Mr. Armour took the hatchet 
from its case, and struck off a part of two or 
three branches of a tree, and hung the wallets 
on the pegs which remained, thus “ keeping 
them out of the way of ants,” he said: “ Which 
would not hesitate to begin a feast on their con- 
tents without the formality of asking per- 
mission.” 


228 


Rockton. 


By this time Bernard was ready with the 
suggestion that if they were to catch fish it 
would be wise, as well as necessary, to cut some 
poles. This caused Benjamin’s chin to drop, 
and he cried out in great consternation: “O, 
Mr. Armour, why did n’t you tell us we were 
coming a fishing, and then we could have 
brought some hooks and lines?” 

“Too bad, isn’t it, my boy?” Mr. Armour 
affirmed, and interrogated in reply, and then 
busied himself in unstrapping the mysterious 
bundle he had claimed as his share of “ the 
traps.” When it was unrolled the sight of 
half a dozen jointed fishing-rods set the boys off 
in a fusilade of rapturous exclamations. Mr. 
Armour explained that he had a friend whose 
business it was to make fishing-rods, and that he 
had selected a lot of fine canes, and had quite a 
number of rods made up to his liking, thinking 
they might come handy when he went fishing 
with his friends. 

“These,” he said, “were made expressly for 
fishing for small fish from a boat.” 

He then opened the enameled cloth case 
which Edward had brought, and took out of it 
a square sheet-iron pan. This had a piece of 
board fitted into it like a cover, which, when it 
was lifted, revealed plenty of lines wound on 
reels. Each boy was quickly supplied, and the 


The Great Secret Out. 229 

work of “ rigging up ” began. The rods, when 
jointed, proved to be “just the things ;” for they 
were light and tapering, yet strong, and nearly 
twelve feet in length. 

Edward, who had often fished with his 
father, went around helping the others pass the 
lines through the tips of the rods, and down 
through the rings, and fasten them at the butts. 
This he did until all were in proper order ; and 
then he coolly turned his attention to his own 
preparations, as if this was the last thing to do. 

Mr. Armour looked at him with a smile, and 
the note his eyes made was something like this: 
“ What a kind, unselfish boy this is getting to 
be !” What he said was : 

“ Edward, if the last is to be first, you will 
catch the first fish.” 

Just then Mr. Blake — he, with the impedi- 
ment — came down to tell them there were two 
stones tied to ropes to be used as anchors ; and to 
make his assertion good, dragged them out of their 
hiding-place. One of these was placed in each 
end of the boat, which was shoved off in read- 
iness for its cargo of boys. Adolphus was sent 
to the further end, Benjamin to the thwart next 
to him; Edward and James took seats on the 
middle thwart; next came Bernard, while Mr. 
Armour stood at the end resting on the shore. 
Before he shoved the boat off, he asked Mr. 


230 


Rockton. 


Blake if he had any objections to their building 
a fire to cook their dinner, provided they were 
careful ; to which that good-humored specimen 
of dessicated humanity, replied : 

“ I-I d-do n’t care, s-so-so long ’s y-you 
d-do n’t s-s-set th-the p-p- pesky p-pond 
a-a-fi-fi-fire.” 

This, no one having the least desire to do, 
Mr. Armour shoved off the boat, at the same 
time stepped in and seated himself, and with 
one of the clumsy paddles sent the unwieldy 
craft on its way. Every boy offered to paddle ; 
but he told them they had but a short distance 
to go, and all they need do would be to sit still and 
keep the boat level. This pond, be it known, 
is pear-shaped, and they were at the small or 
narrow end. As Mr. Armour, without changing 
his position, paddled the boat straight for the 
other side, the boys wondered how he could do 
it so skillfully. Adolphus said that when he 
tried to paddle a boat he had to shift his paddle 
from side to side or the boat went “round and 
round.” Mr. Armour told them it was simple 
enough when understood, and that when a boy 
he had been fortunate enough to own a birch 
canoe, and had learned to use the paddle when 
navigating it. By the time Edward had shown 
James and Benjamin how to bait their hooks, 
the boat had very nearly reached the lily-pads 


The Great Secret Out. 231 

on the north side of the pond, and Mr. Armour 
directed Adolphus to be ready with the anchor 
at his end. A few strong strokes of the paddle 
placed the boat opposite a little cove. 

“ Down with your killick ! Easy !” he said, 
at the same time letting the stone at his end 
slip noislessly into the water. 

“ Do n’t allow much slack to the rope, Adol- 
phus, and tie it into the ring in the end of the 
boat,” was the next direction. When the boat 
was anchored “ fore and aft,” the command, 
“ Fish,” was needless. All were ready. No, 
not quite ; for Benjamin wished he had a float 
so he “ could know when the fish were biting.” 

Mr. Armour said : 

“ My young friend, anybody can pull in a 
fish that is well hooked. If you are to be a 
fisherman you must learn to catch fish. With 
these light rods you can feel the slightest nibble. 
You must learn to hook the fish that nibbles by 
a quick motion of your wrist, and then without 
allowing your line to slack you can pull it in. 
If you get the hang of this kind of fishing, you 
may be able to catch trout some other day.” 

“ Is this a good day for fishing ?” asked 
Edward. 

“ A fair day for us, I think, though much de- 
pends on what one is trying to catch, and some- 
thing on the place.” 


232 Rocki on. 

“ What kind of fish are there in this pond ?” 
inquired Adolphus. 

“ Several kinds,” was the reply, “but we will 
try for but one. A lowering day is generally sup- 
posed to be a good day for pickerel; but I have 
caught some of my finest strings when the sun 
was signing brightly. Bullheads bite best on 
dark days or at night. A trout is really a night 
fish, and could be best caught then if one could 
see to do it. I never had much difficulty in in- 
ducing perch to bite on bright days. I came 
here that we might try our skill in catching 
them. I think we all would enjoy a fish din- 
ner. I have eaten almost every kind of fresh- 
water fish in these parts. When perch are prop- 
erly killed, dressed, and cooked, they are to me 
the sweetest of all fish. Probably most people 
would laugh to hear me say it ; but I think you 
will all say about the same thing before one 
o’clock — that is, if we keep still and fish.” 

Adolphus went at it as sedately as an old 
man forced to earn his living by fishing. Ed- 
ward still directed James and Benjamin, but 
managed to watch his own line. Mr. Armour 
took Bernard in charge, and soon had him anx- 
iously waiting, as he affirmed, for “ a big bite ” 
which was to be the signal for him to “ pull in 
a whale.” Benjamin squealed, “I ’ve got one !” 
and jerked his line hard enough to have pulled 


The Great Secret Out. 


233 


the head off an ordinary fish ; but nothing 
appeared as it flew in the air. Edward under- 
took to show him how to manage when he had 
a bite. Said he : 

“ You just pull a bit when the fish nibbles, 
and if you hook him, then ” — and he “suited the 
action to the word ” — “ you pull him in like 
this ” — and up came a fine perch, quivering in 
the air, and scattering drops of water from its 
scaly sides. 

“O-o-o!” “O-o-o!” “ O-o-o !” exclaimed 

Benjamin, James, and Bernard in interjectional 
concert, while Edward coolly proceeded to un- 
hook his fish. “Hold on, young man !” said Mr. 
Armour; and the “young man” held on, but 
looked up wonderingly. “ I must show you 
how to kill your fish,” he continued, and mov- 
ing to the thwart where Bernard sat, he took 
the fish, still with the hook in its mouth, from 
Edward. Holding it in his left hand, he showed 
the boys an open jackknife in his right. The 
sharp blade of this he passed under the gills, 
and through the head of the perch. “You see 
how it kills the fish at once,” he said. “ Besides 
it bleeds it. This you should always do, for at 
least three reasons : First, it is merciful ; it 
puts an end at once to the sufferings of the fish ; 
second, it prevents its flopping around under- 
foot while it is dying; third, the fish is much 
20 


234 


Rockton. 


better for eating. If Mr. Blake should have an 
ox manage to get into this pond and drown, no- 
body would think the beef fit to eat. When a 
fish is taken out of the water, and allowed to 
die in the air it simply drowns ; yet most people 
treat the fish they catch in this way. Remember, 
if you wish fish fit to eat, always kill them the 
first thing you do after catching them.” 

He then showed them how to place their 
knives to have them handy, and yet where they 
would not inadvertently cut themselves. 

The fishing went on famously. Each boy af- 
firmed he had “caught on ” to the way of doing 
it, and sundry perch well “ caught on ” his hook 
were the triumphant evidence thereof. Edward 
still helped his mates, and fished for himself 
with gratifying results, while Mr. Armour sel- 
dom drew up his line without a perch to show 
for the exertion. Adolphus, admiringly said to 
him : “It makes no difference where you drop 
your hook, the fish seem to be in a hurry to 
have you catch them.” As for himself, as with 
justifiable pride he swung in “ the biggest yet,” 
he declared, “ I am having all the fun I want.” 

“ The man or boy is to be pitied who does not 
enjoy the sport of catching fish — when they bite! 
He must have outlived himself!” This state- 
ment may be a little strong, but it is what Mr. 
Armour said. 


The Great Secret Out. 


235 


“ Con— junctions !” growled Edward, that 
instant through his teeth, as a fine perch with 
an aggravating plash dropped from his hook 
into the pond. Then he looked up roguishly 
into Mr. Armour’s face, and said : u I guess no 
chap, no matter how old he is, enjoys losing a 
fish after he bites.” 

This was too obvious for dissent, and Mr. 
Armour continued his monologue. 

“ There is another remarkable fact about 
fishing ; when the fish bite fairly well a fisher- 
man hardly ever thinks of looking at his watch.” 

“ It wouldn’t help him catch fish if he did,” 
commented Bernard, as he drew in his tenth 
perch. 

“ Do n’t you think a hundred perch ought 
to satisfy us?” asked Mr. Armour, as he landed 
another. 

“ Why, they just keep biting,” replied Ben- 
jamin, evidently greatly astonished at the ab- 
surdity of the question. 

“ What if they do ? We ought not to catch 
more than we need. We have already all we 
shall eat, and all we can well carry home, or 
find use for when we get there. To kill fish 
just for the sake of killing them is not very 
noble fun, in my judgment.” 

“ But men kill lions, tigers, and bears just for 
the sake of killing them,” persisted Benjamin. 


236 


Rockton. 


“ Partly true,” was the reply, u though you 
must remember that lions, tigers, and bears are 
wild and ravenous beasts. It would not be safe 
to have them in the vicinity of our homes. 
Perch don’t kill sheep or men. But allow that 
ravenous beasts are more feYocious than they are 
said to be, and I have the feeling that to go out 
into wild lands and shoot them just for the sake 
of shooting them, is not very manly sport. 
Brutish as the Indians are said to be, I have never 
heard they are brutish enough for this. But it 
is time to be thinking of dinner, and I hope to 
shoot something eatable before we go ashore.” 

This announcement made ten eyes stare in 
big surprise. Shoot something ? Whew ! Adol- 
phus asked him if he intended to do it with one 
of the clumsy paddles ; and then pulled up the 
stone at his end of the boat. Mr. Armour had 
already done so. The Quintet had not finished 
laughing at the ridiculousness of “ shooting 
something ’’with nothing to shoot it with, when 
Mr. Armour unbuttoned the top button of his 
coat, and out of a deep inside pocket took a 
number thirty - two - caliber Wesson’s pocket 
rifle. From a corresponding pocket in the 
other side, he pulled out a skeleton stock, and 
leisurely fitted it in its place. Out from another 
pocket came a box of cartridges, and the rifle 
was loaded and handed to Bernard, who was 


The Great Secret Out. \ 237 

told to hold it very carefully. The boys stared 
more and more. There certainly was an un- 
expected something to shoot with, but what 
was there to be shot ? Had Mr. Armour got that 
in his pocket, too ? Evidently not, for he took 
up his paddle, and as he slowly pushed the boat 
along, said: 

“ We will go up to the end of the pond on 
our way back, and perhaps I can get a shot at 
a lazy pickerel sunning himself.” 

In reply to a question from Adolphus, as to 
the possibility of this, he further said : 

“Yes, it is possible; for pickerel have been 
shot. I do n’t know why it is, but at this time 
of day, in bright weather, pickerel are some- 
times seen lying sluggishly in shallow water. 
I have tried them several times with bait, but 
never have been able to get them to notice it. 
I have threshed the water all around them with 
my line, and not have them stir. Once I worked 
my hook under a lazy fellow and caught him by 
the gills. Why they lie in this way, I can only 
guess. Pickerel are voracious, and generally, un- 
less deceived, take their food alive, and, of 
course, swallow it whole. At times they are 
very big feeders. A friend of mine caught a 
big one by trolling, and when he dressed it he 
found a smaller one in its stomach, and this 
smaller one had a big shiner in its stomach. 


238 


Rockton , ; 


Now this pickerel ought not have been hungry, 
and probably was not, yet my friend said it was 
the most ravenous bite he ever had. It seems 
reasonable that when pickerel have made a 
very hearty meal they should, like other crea- 
tures that swallow their food whole, take after- 
dinner naps to help digestion, and it is quite as 
reasonable that at such times they should be 
found basking in the sunlight in shallow water.” 

By the time all this had been said, he 
had brought the boat quite near the cove in the 
end of the pond, where the bottom was some- 
what sandy, the water shallow, and partly 
covered with patches of lily-pads. Telling 
Bernard to hold the rifle ready to be handed to 
him on his signal, and the rest to keep perfectly 
still, he gave the boat a little more motion, at 
the same time, swinging it around so that his 
own end pointed towards the shore as it drifted 
along under the impulse he gave it. Laying the 
paddle across the boat he reached his hand for 
the ready rifle, and as his eyes sent a quick 
glance around, whispered : 

“ Now do n’t move or speak. There is a big 
fellow just ahead, and I’ll try for him.” 

Rising slowly and steadily to his feet, he 
waited for the boat to drift a few feet further in, 
and then bringing the rifle to his face and 
pointing it downwards, there was a sharp crack, 


Tiie Great Secret Out. 


239 


and the plash of the bullet in the water. The 
next instant all saw a gleam of white where it 
had blurred the surface, and Mr. Armour catch- 
ing up his paddle, by a couple of swift strokes, 
drew the boat towards the fish, which stunned 
by the concussion, had turned on its back. 
“Will he get it?” was the silent question of 
each almost breathless boy. Doubtful, certainly ; 
for, only partly stunned, the pickerel turned on 
its side. The next instant it would doubtless be 
away. But the rough paddle came down on its 
head, and, as Benjamin gleefully said, “ put Mr. 
Pickerel to sleep again,” and Mr. Armour, reach- 
ing down, lifted it by the gills and laid it in the 
boat. Then all the J. Q.’s cheered until the 
wooded shores rang, while Mr. Armour, with his 
knife, according to Bernard’s report, “ killed it 
again.” 

It required but a few moments to paddle 
Edward’s “scow” back to the starting-place, 
where Mr. Blake was found, serenely spitting, 
and waiting, he having brought, by Mr. Ar- 
mour’s direction, a small can of milk, a wooden 
pail with some potatoes, and a tin tea-kettle. 
When Mr. Armour brought his pickerel ashore, 
this little man stuttered out: “M-m-mor’n 
th-tlian a th-three-p-p-pounder ;” but James re- 
sented this light estimate, and affirmed: 

“ It’s bigger’n that,” ^nd appealed to Mr. 


240 


Rockton. 


Armour for confirmation, who wisely left the 
weight of his fish an open question by saying : 

“It is large enough to make a dinner for a 
small family.” 

The boys made haste to place the perch be- 
side the pickerel. Edward affirmed : 

“There are more than a hundred,” but Ben- 
jamin boasted : 

“ Pooh ! We caught more than that !” 

This was true, for Mr. Armour had directed 
that some they caught should be at once re- 
turned to the water as unfit for use. Anyway, all 
agreed that they had a nice lot, and were justly 
proud of their success. Benjamin was the most 
boastful, and Mr. Armour asked him: 

“Do you think you could eat them all?” 

The boy looked at the scaly pile, and an- 
swered : 

“I could try — if — if they were cooked.” 

How far he succeeded must be told in an- 
other chapter. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



THEY WERE COOKS ALL. 

. (i * JT must not be supposed that the courage- 




ous appetite confessed by Benjamin was 
due to his inordinate fondness for fish, but 
to that general state of hungriness which 
was his constitutional peculiarity. He would 
"have had “a snack” from the supplies in 
his wallet, if Mr. Armour had not at once called 
on all the J. Q.’s to serve as cooks. On the princi- 
ple of the organ-blower, who claimed that he was 
quite as necessary to its playing as the organist, 
he said, “We are all to be cooks to-day,” and 
set all at work without delay. To Adolphus he 
gave the hatchet, and leading him to an old 
pine-tree top, which had been left conveniently 
near, he directed him to chop the branches into 
firewood not over a foot in -length; and to keep 
at it until he had a big pile in readiness. Mr. 
Blake modestly offered his services, and was 
told to wash and pare the potatoes, and then 
21 241 


242 


Rockton. 


“slice them as thin as thin paper,” to which 
directions he replied, “ E-eg-eg-zak-zak’ly and 
pulling out a big clasp-knife, was at work with- 
out further remark. Mr. Armour then cut a few 
boughs from a hemlock, and spreading them on 
the ground near the water’s edge, told Benjamin 
and James to wash all the slime off the perch, 
and lay them on the boughs ready for dressing. 
A thin, flat stone, evidently split from the big, 
flat rock already mentioned, was pointed out to 
Bernard, and he was directed to rub it with 
gravel and then wash it off thoroughly. Ed- 
ward was by no means left idle, for Mr. Armour 
informed him he was to assist in arranging for 
the fire, and might begin at once to “tote” 
stqnes. Evidently Mr. Armour was no novice 
in rustic cooking, for in a very short time he 
had inclosed, with well-laid stones, a space some 
two feet long and a foot wide, leaving it open on 
the side to the wind. When this was done, he 
took from the wrap which had been round the 
fishing-rods, something rolled in paper, which 
proved to be two square, iron bars, about twenty- 
eight inches long. These he placed on his fire- 
place lengthwise, and about seven inches apart, 
and made them secure by another course of 
stones. On one end he laid the flat stone which 
Bernard had zealously scrubbed and rinsed. 
This he so placed that half or more of its width 


They were Cooks All. 243 

rested on the bars. During these perfecting ar- 
rangements, Edward had made himself busy in 
bringing of the product of Adolphus’s industry. 
Mr. Armour’s ever-ready knife whittled a few 
sticks into kindlings, and before Mr. Blake had 
shaved the last potato into the thinnest of thin 
slices, the fire was brightly burning; and Adol- 
phus was told that he had prepared enough 
fuel, and might rest himself by keeping a blaze 
going that would make sure of a big bed of 
coals. Edward ran to rinse and fill the tin tea- 
kettle, and set it on the bars to boil. 

“Now the jackets must come off the perch,” 
said Mr. Armour, and at it he went. “Get 
some hemlock boughs, Bernard, and lay them 
near the water, and you shall rinse off the fish 
as we dress them. James will pull out the fins, 
and Benjamin will get that square piece of 
board that came in the pan, and cut off the 
heads of the fish, and pass them along to Ber- 
nard to wash.” 

As he gave these directions he took a perch 
in his left hand — or rather, between his fore- 
finger and thumb, thus pinching the head of the 
fish through its gills. Thus holding it, he ran 
the keen blade of his knife along both sides of 
its dorsal fin, and once along its under side. 
Turning the perch back up again, without 
changing his grip, he slipped the knife-blade 


244 


Rockton. 


under the skin near the head, and stripped off — 
“like a flash,” Bun said — first one, and then the 
other half. 

“My! How he does make their jackets fly!” 
Edward admiringly exclaimed, who stood ready 
to help everybody. 

Mr. Blake stuttered: 

u ’G-ger-gess I-I ker-ker-kin d-do th-that 
ter-too,” and went at the other side of the 
perch heap with a dexterity fully equal to that 
of Mr. Armour. 

By the time Adolphus reported that there 
was “a jolly bed of coals,” the perch were all 
dressed, and lying well washed and white and 
hard, in readiness for the frying-pan. Then it 
was that the sheet-iron pan Edward had brought 
in its case found its proper place. On two of 
its sides, and opposite to each other, were rings 
which, when turned up, allowed a green, round 
stick to be passed through them for a handle. 
Holding it over the fire a moment or two, it 
became hot, and then Mr. Armour dipped it 
sizzling into the pond, when lo! it came out 
clean and dry. Edward was sent for his wallet, 
which proved to contain not only the pork pre- 
viously ordered, but a package of salt; and an- 
other, the contents of which, on being opened, 
all pronounced to be meal. The square piece 
of board which had covered the pan, and after- 


They were Cooks All, 245 

wards been used in decapitating perch, came 
again in play. All this was but the blowing of 
the organ, but it helped make the music of 
cooking fish. Mr. Armour cut the pork into the 
tiniest of cubes, and while it was frying in the 
pan, the very indispensable square of board was 
heaped with meal; and four dozen perch were 
perched on a clean stone, ready to be rolled in 
the meal, and cooked in the pan. 

Benjamin, who stood looking on with greedy 
eyes, in an intense aside, said to James: 

“There won’t be quite seven apiece, if Mr. 
Blake stays to dinner; but if he don’t, there 
will be just eight apiece.” 

It would take too long, or might be too tan- 
talizing, to tell how the pan was filled with fish, 
and how they were watched and turned until 
they were — according to Bun’s veracious asser- 
tion — “done as brown as doughnuts;” or how, 
when done, they were placed on the flat stone 
at the end of the fire-place, to be kept hot until 
they should be served; or how this operation 
was repeated until the last fish was cooked. 
When this “supreme moment” was reached, 
poor Benjamin, with his longing eyes and water- 
ing mouth, had to be taught another lesson in 
patience and abstinence. 

“Now for the potatoes,” said Mr. Armour. 
“Saratoga chips will be nowhere!” 


246 


Rockton. 


How they fried! How the boys danced 
around! “To get up an appetite,” they said, 
though it must be allowed that this was en- 
tirely needless. Mr. Blake, who had privately 
spoken a word with Mr. Armour, darted off like 
a boy, and by the time the first batch of pota- 
toes were well browned, was back with a bright 
tin milk-pan, into which they were speedily 
transferred by the aid of a big iron spoon he 
had also brought along. The frying-pan was 
again filled, and the boys directed to prepare 
the big, flat rock for use as a table. Wallets 
were opened, and the luncheons so arranged as 
to leave each boy room to sit on the edge of the 
rock. The tiji cups or dippers were placed be- 
side the luncheons; and portions of newspapers 
laid down to serve for plates, and weighted 
with small stones to prevent their blowing 
away. 

When the second batch of potatoes had gone 
into the milk-pan, and still another was cook- 
ing, Mr. Armour fished in one of his pockets, 
and pulled out a little package, the contents of 
which he poured into the tea-kettle, and set it 
on the rock, and said: 

“ I think our tea will be ready when every- 
thing else is ditto.” 

Benjamin affirmed that he had “been ‘ditto’ 
for a long time.” To this ravenous remark, 


They were Cooks All. 247 

Mr. Armour appeared to give no heed, but fished 
in Edward’s wallet and found “just one pack- 
age more,” which proved to contain sugar, 
and — probably as a happy thought of Miss 
Sarah — a couple of tea-spoons. 

“Just enough,” Mr. Armour said. “One to 
serve the sugar, and one to loan each of the com- 
pany to stir it in.” 

The package of sugar, with the spoons, went 
on the big rock ; so also the pan of potatoes and 
the milk-can. Then Mr. Armour, with pieces 
of paper for holders, lifted the hot, flat stone 
with its great piie of perch, and placed it in the 
very center of their big natural table, and said: 

“All ready at last.” 

But he was a little fast. No paper plate or 
tin cup had been placed for Mr. Blake. Sure 
enough, it was Edward who discovered the 
omission. Mr. Blake insisted: 

“Y-yer-you d-don’t w-war-warnt n-no sus- 
sus-stranger;” but the boys made a louder and 
longer insistence, and declared they would not 
eat, hungry as they were, unless he would play 
guest. A piece of paper was laid down and 
duly ballasted with stones, the cover of the milk- 
can having lost its handle was solemnly placed 
beside it for a cup, and the . boys contributed of 
their luncheons until the little lingual litnper 
avowed: “I-I ’ll b-bu-bust f-f ’I e-e-eat it a-all!” 


248 


koCKTON. 


At last all things were really ready — Benja- 
min more than ready — but Mr. Armour said : 

“Here, as everywhere, we should be thank- 
ful for good things;” and taking off his hat, all 
instinctively following his example, he rever- 
ently asked a blessing on the food which was 
lying before them. 

How they fell to! The big spoon did big 
duty in serving the potatoes, and each paper 
plate was heaped. Then each boy reached for 
a fish, which he took by the tail, and proceeded 
to dispose of in a very primitive fashion. 

“Saratoga chips!” commented Edward, with 
his mouth full. “They are poor fodder along- 
side of these.” 

Most of the boys allowed their wagging jaws 
time to assent to this eulogium. Benjamin 
alone was silent; he was too busy stuffing him- 
self for flattering comparisons, small talk, or 
anything else than stuffing. 

Mr. Blake stuttered at Mr. Armour the com- 
pliment that he could get big wages as a cook 
for some metropolitan hotel, but that gentleman 
modestly replied : 

“It would be a losing business, unless I could 
take the J. Q.’s along to catch fish for me.” 

The gratifying gastronomic work went on, 
until there were more bones in sight than fish. 
Not that our friends were troubled with the 


They were Cooks All. 249 

former, for perch dressed and cooked as were 
those of their feast give no such annoyance. 
The dressing removes the fins and some of the 
smaller bones; and when well cooked, the meat 
readily separates from the remaining bones, leav- 
ing quite a skeleton as evidence of the prowess 
of the eater. 

Mr. Armour quoted the “old saw:” 

“A carpenter should be known by his chips,” 
to which Edward instantly rejoined : 

“ A!y-pecially Chippy.” 

There was a general laugh at this poor pun ; 
but James growled out, with greasy mouth: 

“Getting mighty par - ticular how you speak ;” 
thus unconsciously doing respect to his mate’s 
new habit of careful utterance. 

Before dinner was ended, the last batch of 
potatoes went to re-enforce the milk-pan, but the 
boys protested they had no other place for it. 
Adolphus, declaring he could not and would not 
eat any more, got himself on his feet ; a maneu- 
ver which was imitated by all except Benjamin. 
This voracious young gentleman still sat, and 
ruefully eyed the hot stone, on which there re- 
mained several toothsome perch. 

“Can’t you finish the job?” laughingly in- 
quired Mr. Armour. 

The boy shook his head disconsolately, and 
rubbed his distended stomach for a reply. Adol- 


250 


Rockton. 


phus and Edward offered to take him away, and 
roll him over a log, if they could find one. At 
length he, too, got up, and like the rest declared 
he could not “eat one bit more.” 

What could be done with the remainder? 
They could not carry it home, nor did they wish 
to throw it away. Mr. Blake unobtrusively 
hinted that, if they had no use for it, he would 
carry it to the house for liis brother, who was 
“ fer-fer-fond of f-f-fish.” So the perch were 
laid on the potatoes, and he was told he was 
more than welcome to the contents of his own 
pan. Adolphus whispered to Mr. Armour that 
they had thus discovered that the queer bundle 
of duds up at the house could eat. 

The next thing was to care for the perch 
which had not been cooked. Bernard got into 
the boat, and found several which had been 
overlooked. These were dressed, together with 
the pickerel which Mr. Armour had placed in 
the water to keep it in good condition. This 
pickerel he strung through the gills with a piece 
of line, to which he tied a short, round stick for 
convenience in carrying, and then rolled it in 
an old newspaper, making this secure with more 
line. This done, he assorted the perch, making 
of them four piles, three of which contained a 
dozen and a half, the fourth a round dozen. 
Edward was told he needed no more perch to 


They were Cooks All. 251 

stimulate his active brain, while Bernard was as- 
sured that a dozen fish were sufficient for his small 
household; so each of four boys rolled up his 
perch in whatever paper he had left, and, put- 
ting them in his wallet, hung it on the tree. 

After an hour spent in resting and strolling 
through the woods, Mr. Armour called The 
Quintet together, that they might get into har- 
ness for the homeward march. The frying-pan 
was burned clean and hid in its case, the hatchet 
again made safe to carry, and, when all the 
traps were properly adjusted, the party returned 
to the house. 

Mr. Blake, who had preceded them to feed 
his taciturn brother, was awaiting them. Mr. 
Armour asked him for a handful of unbroken 
rye-straw, which, having obtained, he proceeded 
further to dress up his pickerel. First he thor- 
oughly wet the paper around it, and then, lay- 
ing it on some straw and placing more over it, 
he tied it up so as to make a complete cover or 
sheath for it. Cutting the spare straw off at 
both ends, he held it up and said: 

“Young fishermen, you see my pickerel will 
keep fresh, my clothes will not be soiled, and 
‘ Paul Pry,’ if I should meet him, could n’t tell 
what I am carrying.” 

Well, it was time to go. No doubt about 
this. Mr. Armour shook hands with Mr. Blake 


252 


Rockton. 


in a way which made that worthy gentleman 
grin, chuckle, double up his fist, thrust it down 
into his overalls pocket, and stutter: 

“Ga-ga-glad ter-ter s-s-see ye-you a-a-any 
t-ter-time.” 

At a signal from Adolphus, the J. Q’s got in 
line, took off their hats, and gave three cheers 
and a tiger; after which they followed Mr. Ar- 
mour into the road, where he called a halt, and 
told them they could go home the way they 
came or take a shorter cut across the country. 
He explained that there was a cart-path leading 
south through the woods, which would bring 
them to the foot of a high ridge, which they 
could see something of a mile away, and which 
they would have to climb. On the further side 
of this ridge there was another cart-path, made 
by lumbermen, which would lead them very 
nearly home. This way would be considerably 
rougher than the public road, but it would be 
nearly two miles shorter. Both ways would be 
pleasant, and they might take their choice. 
Adolphus put it to vote, and it was unani- 
mously decided to take the short cut if Mr. 
Armour would play the part of guide. As they 
turned into the wood road, Edward said: 

“Mr. Armour has his rifle, and may shoot 
some big game.” 

He did not know he was a prophet. 



CHAPTER XI Y. 


SOME BIG GAME BAGGED. 

T HE cart-path into which Mr. Armour 
led the boys winds its way delightfully 
thiough a thrifty second growth of oak and 
birch, and occasionally skirts low places 
where grow fir and juniper. As its general 
^ course is north and south, the rays of that 
afternoon’s sun could not flood it, but instead 
cast a cool shade, which added much to the com- 
fort and pleasure of the walk. At first the boys 
trudged on at a rapid gait, singing, “Marching 
through Georgia” and other marching choruses; 
but the “ whirr ” of a partridge now and then, 
and the occasional glimpse of a rabbit as it 
whisked out of the path, diverted their attention 
and slowed their pace. There was a general 
clamor for Mr. Armour to show his skill with 
the rifle, but in reply he read them the humane 
lesson, “To kill for fun is simply brutal.” On 
this he enlarged by saying: “ I wish for all boys 

253 


254 


Rockton. 


to have all the fun they have right to ; for hon- 
est amusement and legitimate adventures will 
help make them wiser, better, and healthier. 
Nothing which is brutal can do this. I wish 
you to be jolly ; but you ought to be ambitious 
to be manly boys. Always crush out of your 
minds the least thought or desire for anything 
cruel, mean, or unworthy. Go for the noblest 
pleasures every time ; and remember this : the 
highest joy is always found in being kind, ten- 
der, and truthful, and in doing good. It is 
against the law to shoot partridges, rabbits, or 
other game at this season. If it were not, I 
would not shoot them unless I wished to eat 
them.” 

“ I heard Mr. Allard say that he was * no pot- 
hunter.’ What did he mean?” asked Adolphus. 

“ I suppose he meant it to be understood 
that he is what is called ‘ a sportsman,’ and does 
not kill game, simply for the game. If this is 
so, he shoots game to show his skill, or to im- 
prove it. To take away the lives of God’s harm- 
less creatures for this purpose is unmanly, for it 
is unnecessary ; more, it is wanton cruelty. If 
a ‘ pot-hunter ’ is one who kills game to put in 
his pot, and who kills only what he wishes to 
eat, then, in my judgment, the ‘pot-hunter’ is 
the more manly, and the real sportsman.” 

Of course such talk as this opened the way 


Some Big Game Bagged . 255 

for more. Benjamin, a short time before, had 
read an account of the doings of a hunting 
party in the Wild West, and he launched into 
a somewhat lurid description of the daring 
deeds, hair-breadth escapes, and wild animals 
slain, of which it told. Evidently he had been 
much delighted with it. 

It may not have been said in so many words 
that Mr. Armour is a wise man ; if not, let it 
now go down for a fact. He did not say, 
“Young man, such books are not fit to read!” 
O no ! But he did say : 

“ We read, and perhaps sometimes ought to 
read, books describing actions we are not bound 
to imitate. If you read the description of a 
drunken brawl, you ought not to have a desire 
to get drunk and fight. On the contrary, you 
ought to be more strongly fixed in the deter- 
mination to do neither. The danger in such 
books as Benjamin has been reading is, that 
boys are by them often led to think that there 
is something specially heroic in unnecessary 
dangers and hair-breadth escapes. If you will 
learn to study the acts of men, and discern 
their true nature and worth, then good may 
come out of the reading. But what is there 
heroic in a man who, because he is daring, and 
holds his life cheap, faces a grizzly bear for the 
poor glory of killing it if he can?” 


256 


Rock on. 


At this time they had reached a clearing 
where the choppers, in trimming trees, had left 
large piles of the limbs, now well dried. Calling 
attention to these, Mr. Armour continued : 

“ Suppose that I should set fire to all this 
brush, and get it to blazing furiously; and then 
should challenge you all to jump into it or run 
through it, would you do it?” 

“Not much!” replied Adolphus; and the 
rest agreed with him. Even Benjamin said he 
could n’t see any use there could be in spoiling 
his clothes or getting burned to death. 

“What if I should call you cowards because 
you would n’t do it?” asked Mr. Armour. 

“ It just — just — would n’t be true,” answered 
Edward stoutly. 

“ That is a very polite way of saying it 
would be a lie ! You are correct. Now sup- 
pose that while the brush w T as burning all 
around on the edges of the clearing, you should 
see your little sister, or some small child in the 
center, and in danger of being burned to death ! 
Then what would you do ?” 

“ I’d get her out in a minute,” replied Adol- 
phus, with flashing eyes. He thinks he has just 
the loveliest and most lovable little sister in the 
whole world — and thinks right for Adolphus. 

“ But what if you should be burned to. death 
in trying to save her?” 


Some Big Game Bagged. 257 

11 1 — I do n’t think I would think of that,” 
answered the boy with a modest flush on his 
face. 

There was a tender expression in Mr. Ar- 
mour’s eyes as he said : 

“ That would be true heroism, Adolphus. 
But if I should challenge you to run through 
the fire, and you should do so for fear I would 
call you a coward if you refused, do n’t you see 
you would be a coward after all ? There is noth- 
ing brave in doing a thing because it is daring — 
it is simply fool-hardy. I wish the J. Q.’s to be 
brave and face danger when there is need of 
facing it ; and I wish them to be just as brave, 
and utterly refuse to be fool-hardy.” 

How long this conversation might have contin- 
ued it is not possible to say ; as a matter of fact it 
was suddenly brought to an end by Edward, who 
looked up roguishly at Mr. Armour, and said : 

“Any way, I ’d like to shoot at something.” 

This wise man was wise enough to follow 
this lead and change the subject. The party 
had reached open ground at the base of the 
ridge, which must be climbed before they could 
strike the path on the other side. Having 
plenty of time, a rest was in order. While the 
boys stretched themselves on the mossy turf, 
Mr. Armour walked to the perpendicular face of 
a ledge about two hundred yards away, and, 
22 


258 


Rockton. 


taking a paper target from his pocket, unfolded 
it and fastened it upon the ledge. Coming 
back, he asked for the hatchet, and cutting a 
forked sapling, trimmed it and drove it into 
the ground as a rest for the rifle. Taking this 
out and loading it, he arranged and explained 
the sights, and then offering it to Edward, told 
him to shoot. This the eager boy was about to 
do, but suddenly seemed to change his mind, 
and declared he would “ shoot last,” if at all. 
The others were quite willing he should wait; 
and Bernard, Benjamin, James, and Adolphus, 
in turn, had “a crack” at the target. Adolphus 
hit the outer edge of the paper; the others freely 
admitted they “hit nowhere.” Then came Ed- 
ward, whose shot left a black dot inside the 
outer ring. All insisted that Mr. Armour should 
show them what he could do, and, without the 
rest, he managed to plant a bullet just under the 
bull’s-eye. After another round, with about the 
same result, except that Mr. Armour’s second 
bullet clipped the upper edge of the bull’s-eye, 
they resumed the homeward march. 

It required some smart scrambling to climb 
the ridge; but, slipping, scratching, shouting, 
laughing, and puffing, they at length accom- 
plished it, and found a fine view and time to re- 
cover their wind at the top. As they looked 
south, the woods stretched away in green bil- 


Some Big Game Bagged . 259 

lows for nearly two miles, beyond which they 
could see the tip of the spire of Northville 
church, and still beyond that the clustering 
houses which have in part overrun the old-time 
Pound Pasture. 

Edward and James soon pointed out their 
homes. All wished to know if they were to 
travel “straight away” for Northville. Mr. Ar- 
mour showed them where they were to make 
their way down the south side of the ridge and 
towards a swamp, on the edge of which they 
could find a wood road, leading them in a 
slightly westerly direction. This road, he told 
them, would bring them out into the highway 
they had traveled in the morning, at a point 
about half a mile from where they took the 
stage. But he said they could make their walk 
shorter by turning into a foot-path and coming 
out on Brent’s Hill, a sharp elevation northwest 
from Mr. Holt’s, and about half a mile distant. 
After giving James an extra and needful lesson 
in cautiousness, he directed an oblique descent 
into the valley and towards the swamp. Each 
sought the easiest way down, and when the foot 
of the ridge was reached the party was some- 
what separated. 

Mr. Armour and Edward were nearest the 
swamp, the latter, boy-like, in advance. As he 
parted some low bushes, something suddenly 


260 


Rockton. 


started up which looked immense to his aston- 
ished eyes. This something leaped away, and 
in an instant was on one of the lower branches 
of a big hemlock. Mr. Armour heard the sharp 
cry of the surprised boy, and the scratching 
sound which the something made as he “treed” 
it. His rifle was out in an instant; for his 
quick eyes saw and recognized the big game. 
Without stopping to adjust the stock, he slipped 
a cartridge from his vest-pocket into its place, 
and drew a bead on the “varmint.” He could 
not see its head, and if he had been able to see 
so small a mark without the stock, his aim 
might not have been sure. As the creature 
stood, with arching back and bristling hair, 
ready for a spring and escape, he brought, as 
near as he could judge, the sights to bear over 
its heart. The next instant there was a sharp 
crack, a plunge into the bushes, and the sound 
of a following flurry. Bidding Edward stand 
perfectly still, and hastily reloading his rifle, he 
made his way cautiously in the direction of the 
sound. The rifle cracked again, and the flurry 
was over. 

The other boys came bursting through the 
bushes as Mr. Armour dragged into a clear 
space the creature he had shot. There was a 
sizable hubbub. No boy had ever seen the 
like. What was it? Benjamin eyed it suspi- 


Some Big Game Bagged. 261 

ciously, but at a safe distance, and asked Mr. 
Armour if lie was sure it was quite dead. Adol- 
phus wished to know if it was a catamount, and 
Edward asked if it was not a panther. They 
were told that those were names for the puma, 
or American lion, a very large animal, and ex- 
ceedingly dangerous to encounter. Edward at 
length ventured another guess, and guessed 
“ it must be a wild-cat.” 

“ Quite right this time,” said Mr. Armour. 
“It is a very large specimen of the bay lynx 
or Bob-cat. I have seen several of this species 
in my rambles, but none so large as this.” 

“Are there any other kinds about here?” 
asked Adolphus. 

“ There are said to be four occasionally 
found in the United States. I never have seen but 
one alive, and know of but one more being seen 
in this part of the country. The Canada lynx is 
usually of a gray color, and has longer and larger 
legs than the bay lynx, but has a body smaller 
in proportion. Once in a while one of this 
species is seen in this State.” 

“ Do they kill folks ?” asked Benjamin, who 
had edged up to the dead lynx and was pok- 
ing it with a stick. 

“ Hardly,” replied Mr. Armour. “ They are 
inoffensive unless attacked in a corner, or 
wounded so they can not get out of the way. 


262 


Rockton. 


Then, of course, they scratch and bite, and do 
so as as hard as they can. A friend of mine 
had a pair of pantaloons ruined by one he had 
disabled. This fellow would have got into a 
ledge or some hole out of the way if he had 
seen the chance. Edward frightened him and 
he went up the tree for safety, and to look 
around. He was just ready to take “scotch 
leave,” when I let go at him. When I saw him 
I was anxious to bring him down. East winter 
I was looking for a specimen in the Natural 
History Rooms in Blankopolis, where I go some- 
times to study, and I could not find one ; but 
now I can supply the deficiency. 

“ How can we get Mr. Lynx home ?” dubi- 
ously inquired Bernard. 

“We’ll lug him,” proposed Edward. 

Adolphus shook his head, and said: “That’s 
what no two of us boys can do.” 

“ But four of us could carry him if each 
should take hold of a leg.” This was Bernard’s 
solution of this transportation problem. 

Benjamin evidently intended to be perfectly 
safe, and objected. “He might come to, and 
scratch or bite.” 

Bernard was equal to this emergency, and 
replied : “ The rest of us can carry him, and 
you can walk behind and see he doesn’t 
bite us.” 


Some Big Game Bagged. 263 

All the while Mr. Armour had been an 
amused listener. He now said : “ I will let you 
carry our prize, but I must make it easy for you.” 

He asked Edward for the hatchet, and 
walked away ; the boys heard a few vigorous 
whacks, and before they were done debating as 
to what he was doing, he was back with two 
small, white birches. Out of these he trimmed 
a pair of poles about eight feet long, leaving 
several branches on one side, and near the middle 
of each. Eaying these on the ground parallel to 
each other, and about twenty-four inches apart, 
he asked Bernard to open the frying-pan case 
and hand him a fishing-line. He then bent the 
loose ends of the branches around the opposite 
poles, and tied them fast, thus making a small 
rude litter, and then cut a few boughs from the 
hemlock, and spread them like a mat upon it. 
This done, it required but a moment to have 
the lynx ready for transportation. Edward and 
Adolphus were the first detail. The former, be- 
ing the shorter, stepped between the poles in 
front, while Adolphus did the same behind. 
Mr. Armour gave the word, and they picked up 
the load. The limber birch branches, and the 
hemlock boughs bent just enough under the 
body of the lynx to prevent it from rolling off; 
and Edward declared it was just the thing, and 
that he could carry his end all the way home. 


264 


Rockton. 


Mr. Armour went back and picked up the 
pickerel, which he had dropped, when he caught 
sight of the lynx, and when all were ready, told 
them to follow him in Indian file. In a short 
time they struck the wood road which proved 
broad and smooth enough to allow four boys to 
carry the lynx. They were in no hurry — that 
is, after awhile ! They thought the lynx was 
an enormous creature when they first saw it. 
Paradoxically they declared it was not heavy to 
carry. It grew considerably in their estimation 
as they trudged towards Northville. Edward 
humorously declared that if they had twenty 
miles to lug the thing it would get to be as 
heavy as an elephant. 

What if it did take an hour longer to get 
home? Did anybody in Northville ever before 
go fishing, and come home with a monstrous 
wild cat? For a time the pickerel was at an 
obscuring discount. They marched slowly, 
rested often, congratulating themselves all the 
while until they came where they must leave 
the cart-path, and take the shorter trail leading 
over Brent’s Hill. Then the load must be borne 
by twos. But they changed often, and tugged 
cheerfully. Brent’s Hill, on the north, is not 
steep, and by the time Benjamin was expressing 
his longings for supper they had topped it, and 
come to a delightful place to rest. 


CHAPTER XY. 



THE EVER-MEMORABLE DAY WINDS UP. 

T HERE !” ejaculated Edward, with a 
comical inflection of relief; “let that 
immense Bob-cat, wild-cat, and bay lynx 
lie in the shade and shrink some before we 
tug him the rest of the way.” 

Probably the other fragments of the 
J. Q.’s were equally thankful. At least no one 
objected at all when Mr. Armour said: 

“You have brought our prize to the edge of 
civilization, and now we will find some other 
mode of transportation.” 

They had indeed come to the edge of civil- 
ization, and not a thin edge either ; for they had 
Rockton at their very feet. Brent’s Hill, on its 
south side, is a somewhat abrupt elevation. It 
is not very long from east to west. Its top is 
higher than Ridge Street; and while much of 
the center of Rockton can not be seen from it, 
there is a fine view of Northville, from which it 
23 265 



266 


Rockton. 


is but a few moments’ walk, and other portions 
of this thriving town. 

Mr. Armour and the boys (and the lynx) had 
not stopped to rest on the very crest of the hill, 
but a little under it, on the south side, where it 
drops away in a gentle descent, thus forming a 
shallow basin, or hollow, quite free from rocks 
(plentiful elsewhere), and containing perhaps 
half a dozen acres of very good soil. This 
spot, because of its peculiar situation, and the 
improvements made upon it, is one of the prin- 
cipal show places of Rockton. There is noth- 
ing very grand about the buildings or grounds; 
but they are neat, attractive, and rather dainty 
in appearance. 

Some fifteen years before the time of this 
story, a Mr. Wentworth, who had amassed a 
considerable fortune, and was largely interested 
in several manufacturing enterprises in the 
State, saw the location, bought it, erected the 
buildings, and ornamented the grounds to please 
the taste of his wife. It may be hard to make 
a picture of all our friends were enjoying, but 
the beauty is there to be seen if not- described. 
The house is not “a mansion ” or “a villa.” It 
is a neat, vine-grown cottage, with wide veran- 
das, and is pleasing to the eye and suggestive 
of comfort within. The outbuildings show 
equal taste. These buildings are set in an 


The Day Winds Up. 267 

ample lawn, with graveled paths and roadway. 
The grounds are not laid out like any others in 
the town. The buildings are not shaded by 
trees, but stand open to the air and sunlight. 
On the east, north, and west sides of the grounds 
Mr. Wentworth planted trees of many kinds, 
and in all sorts of odd arrangements. These 
trees have flourished vigorously, and now the 
grounds, as has been said, are very pleasant 
and attractive. Even Annis Crab can not find 
fault with them, but has been heard quite en- 
thusiastically to say: “They are just ’cute and 
lovely.” 

For some years Mr. Wentworth and his in- 
valid wife enjoyed this home. He called it 
Mount Hope. This was not for a reason kin- 
dred to that which Solomon Whagg, Esq., gave, 
when asked by a visitor in Rockton why one of 
its public ways was called Elm Street. Solomon 
heard the question with an almost expressionless 
gravity on his face, and with an overpowering 
solemnity of tone answered: “Because there is 
a row of maples on each side of it!” No one 
can tell what would become of Rockton were it 
not for this perpetrator of small jokes. Doubt- 
less he is all the more popular from the fact that 
his jokes are small. If they were big or exceed- 
ingly witty, Rockton might not understand 
them. All laugh at his innocent fun, and all 


268 


Rockton. 


the more, perhaps, because they can not tell 
why. And indeed why should they? There 
may be no wit in what he said of another street, 
yet Rockton laughs at it to-day, will to-morrow, 
and for all days to come. It was at a town- 
meeting. They were trying to fix on a name 
for a street which had just been accepted as a 
public way. Houses had been built upon it 
nearly its whole length. Every one had a name 
for it; but when votes were taken, overwhelm- 
ing majorities rejected them all. Finally Sol- 
omon arose, and, with his usual ponderous so- 
lemnity, proposed, in order to unite all factions 
and please everybody, that this public way be 
named “Green Street.” It went through with 
a rush, and unanimously. After the vote was 
declared, somebody asked Solomon his reason 
for suggesting this name. He arose, and with- 
out a semblance of a smile, answered: “Because 
no one of that name ever lived on it.” “Green 
Street” is painted upon the signs on its coiners, 
but all the “old-timers” still call it “Solomon’s 
Joke.” 

To return. Mr. Wentworth was not trying 
to be funny when he named his charming little 
estate Mount Hope, but was giving expression 
to a great love. Hope is the baptismal name 
of the noble, cultured woman who graced it. 
She objected to its use, but love prevailed. 


The Day Winds Up. 


269 


It has been said that Mrs. Wentworth is an 
invalid, and the sorrowful truth is that robust 
health will never bless her frail body. Her in- 
firmities at length forced a flitting to a more 
genial climate. For some years, it has been a 
well-known and universally lamented fact that 
she will never return for a long stay at Mount 
Hope ; and at the time this story opened Mr. 
Wentworth had given orders for its sale. 

When the J. Q.’s made their appearance on 
this Thursday afternoon, there were no signs of 
life about the premises except that a horse at- 
tached to a light express-wagon was standing in 
the shed connected with the stable. The boys 
dropped down on the rustic chairs and benches 
on the east side of the grounds, from which 
they could see the front of the cottage, with its 
closed doors and blinds. It was a delightful 
place to rest. Home was at hand. The after- 
noon sunlight was flooding all their beloved 
Rockton, and blessing Northville in particular, 
with its unstinted opulence. Behind them was 
the day, with its rare enjoyments; beside them 
the harmless body of the bay lynx, and they 
were happy. Happy? They overflowed with 
irrepressible joyousness. James, in the exuber- 
ance of his raptures, cried, nay, shrieked out: 
“O, but hasn’t this just been a boss day!” 
He threw up his hat, kicked his heels in 


270 


Rockton. 


air, and tumbled backwards off the bench to 
the great peril of his neck. When he had 
shame-facedly righted himself, and the laughter 
of his mates over his involuntary summerset 
had subsided, all fell to admiring the place. 
Adolphus said he wished he might own it when 
he came to set up for himself. Likewise said 
Edward, James, and Benjamin. Bernard had 
got beyond wishing. He said: “I just mean to 
buy it when I get to be a man.” The flood- 
gates were opened. They talked and romanced 
into much enthusiasm, if not to their hearts’ 
content. Finally, it was agreed upon that it 
should be the object of each of The Jolly Quin- 
tet to own and live at Mount Hope. Standing 
together and clasping hands, they laughingly 
made the compact that he of their number who 
should succeed in this purpose, should celebrate 
it by a grand entertainment, and invite his 
mates and their friends. 

Some things occur suddenly. Some things 
are so very abruptly sudden in their occurrence 
as to cause speechless astonishment. So it hap- 
pened to this ring of covenanting boys. They 
heard a slight noise in the direction of the 
house. They looked, and lo! the front door 
opened, and out of it came Sarah Holt, followed 
closely by Jabez Long, Abraham Clark, and Sol- 
omon Whagg, Esq. Grand tableau! Five boys, 


The Day Winds Up. 


271 


with round, bulging eyes, wide-open mouths, 
and — speechless ! How long? Well, for boys, 
relatively quite long. Actually, before this new 
party could cross the lawn, they were cheering 
themselves hoarse. 

“It is like having our fun all over again,” 
said Adolphus, when greetings had been ex- 
changed. 

The new-comers each asked questions, and 
the boys, all at once, tried to tell the story of 
the day. Solomon inquired where they got their 
“big tom-cat,” and cracked innumerable small 
jokes, which kept the boys in an uproar. But 
a stranger story than that of their fishing, the 
big pickerel, or the whopping big lynx, was told 
by this sober-faced punster. Wonderful! He 
said : 

“ Mr. Jabez Tong, our estimable friend, has 
bought Mount Hope.” 

Who could believe it? In chorus they ap- 
pealed to Mr. Tong. He replied : 

“ I suppose so ; that is, if my check is not 
refused when the papers are ready.” 

“ Yes, Mr. Tong is in immediate prospect of 
being the proud owner of this delightful estab- 
lishment,” reaffirmed Mr. Whagg. 

Thus it was ; Mr. Wentworth, the day before 
had dropped into Mr. Tong’s store (they are 
great friends), and in the course of their conver- 


272 


Rockton. 


sation the fact that the place was for sale was 
mentioned. Mr. Long said he had often wished 
that he could afford to buy it. Whereupon Mr. 
Wentworth began to urge him to do so. He 
said he would rather, by many dollars, he should 
own it than have it go to a stranger. Finally, 
he named an astonishingly low price, to which 
he added two conditions, which were that the 
name should not be changed, and that if his 
wife’s health allowed, he should occupy the 
house two weeks in the summer. Mr. Long 
thus bought the estate for a little more than 
half its market value. He had come up, while 
the boys were tugging the lynx homeward, to 
look the house through, and see what condition 
the furniture was in, this being included in his 
purchase. When Solomon Whagg called for 
him, Miss Sarah was in the store, also Abra- 
ham Clark, a good-natured young man, who a 
few months previous had opened a provision 
store near the “ Emporium,” and who was 
fast winning the good graces of the people of 
Northville. 

Mr. Whagg said that some woman ought to 
go along with them, and see if the moths and 
Buffalo bugs had left anything of carpets, cur- 
tains, or upholsterings. As Mrs. Walters was 
needed to wait on customers, Miss Holt volun- 
teered her services, and this brought Mr. Clark 


The Day Winds Up . 


273 


to the front, who offered to drive up with her if 
she did not object to his delivery wagon. That 
she did not, explains how she came to appear in 
the company that so suddenly appeared to the 
boys. 

It may as well be recorded that the 
moths and bugs had spared the carpets, 
and other properties in the house. So Mr. 
Tong’s new cottage was furnished very neatly 
throughout, and all this he had “ bought for 
a song,” he said. “ And will be every dol- 
lar paid for next week,” chimed in Mr. Whagg 
ponderously. 

Test it may be forgotten, it may be said that 
Solomon Whagg, Esq., as the title indicates, is 
a justice of the peace, and devotes much of his 
valuable services to the drawing of various legal 
documents for his fellow-townsmen. He also 
has a real estate agency, “ conducted,” as he af- 
firms, “ in a mild way.” This information will 
account for his presence in the transfer of the 
Mount Hope estate. 

A doleful insistence from Benjamin that he 
was perishing for something to eat turned the 
attention of all homeward. Mr. Clark protested 
that he should fail of his duty if he did not 
drive Miss Holt across to Ridge Street, and Mr. 
Armour informed him that he was at liberty to 
do so if the wild-cat was put in the back of the 


274 


Rockton. 


wagon to watch them! It was agreed this 
should be done ; Mr. Clark claiming the priv- 
ilege of exhibiting the lynx in his store win- 
dow that evening and the next day ; and agreeing 
to deliver it at Mr. Holt’s barn very early Saturday 
morning. As he drove down the hill, Bernard’s 
sharp eyes saw something beside t*he lynx which 
looked like straw, and he also noticed that Mr. 
Armour had nothing but his bundle of fishing- 
rods to carry. 

Down the hill went the men and boys — no, 
boys and men. When the street leading up to 
Mr. Holt’s big barn was reached, Edward and 
James turned into it. Not many minutes after, 
Mr. Armour stood at the corner of the street on 
which he then had lodgings. Eooking quizzically 
at young Walters, he said : “ Bernard, when 

you fix on the time for your entertainment of the 
J. Q.’s at Mount Hope, I shall expect the first 
invitation.” Mr. Long was seized with a sudden 
fit of coughing that sent the blood to his face 
until it was as red as the scarlet flannel he 
sells. Mr. Whagg winked his eyes in his sol- 
emn face for all the world like an owl blinking 
in the sun, while Bernard looked up at Mr. Ar- 
mour with a guileless smile, and replied: “It 
will be a long time till then, but I will invite 
you now.” 

“ Bless the little innocent ! How unsuspecting 


The Day Winds Up. 


275 


and ignorant it is !” chuckled Mr. Whagg, which 
remark set Mr. Armour and Mr. Long off into 
merry peals of laughter, and sent Bernard trot- 
ting home in wonderment to ask his mother 
what it all meant. 


CHAPTER XYI. 


A DAY AND ANOTHER DAY AFTER. 


•' ETRIDAY generally follows Thursday, and 
Friday dawned bright and clear out of 
the night of what to the J. Q.’s will ever be 
known as “ That Thursday.” At recess 
Miss Barber got them all around her, and 
A listened to their story of its adventures and 
pleasures. It was talked over at least at five 
dinner -tables, where fish were eaten, not be- 
cause it was Friday, but because there were 
fish to eat. 

There were two guests who dined at Mr. 
Holt’s ; it is almost needless to say they were 
Mr. Armour and Mr. Rong. There were sly 
jokes about “ wild-cat schemes,” and others 
of like nature from the latter, replied to by 
the former in obscure but apparently tell- 
ing references to “ Mount Hope,” and a 
“ Mount of Promise but it was all Greek to 
Edward. 


276 


A Day and Another Day After. 277 

The dinner was served late, and before it 
was ended he had to leave for school, where, just 
before it opened, he met the rest of the J. Q.’s, 
who smacked their lips and bragged of perch. 
This time he would not be outdone, or out- 
bragged. He wiped his mouth with a con- 
tented and superior air, and said : “ I believe 
baked pickerel is better than perch any day.” 
This proved “ a squelcher,” and especially so 
for Benjamin, who longed for baked pickerel all 
the afternoon. 

It must have been that Edward’s ears burned 
as he ran to school, for the door of the dining- 
room hardly closed behind him when he be- 
came the theme of conversation for those who 
remained. Mrs. Holt thanked Mr. Armour for 
his interest in her son, and spoke of the great 
change in his general conduct about the house ; 
his thoughtfulness for others even in little 
things, and his more studious and quiet ways. 
To all this Mr. Armour replied that the chief 
influences molding the character of Edward 
were to be found where they ought, in his par- 
ents and home ; and that what he had done to 
please the boys had been far more of a pleasure 
to himself. Mr. Holt joined heartily in the 
thanks ; but said he had thought that possibly 
the singling out of a few boys from among the 
large number in North ville might be misunder- 


278 


Rockton. 


stood by some. To this Mr. Armour assented 
in part, but said he had it in mind to use the 
five boys for the good of others, and intended as 
he could find opportunity to make the J. Q.’s a 
center around which he could gather many boys 
for their amusement and profit. 

Miss Sarah spoke of the greatly increased in- 
terest Edward was showing in his studies, and 
of his all-round growth even in the short time 
The Quintet had had a history. Mr. Long 
thought this was good evidence that boys could 
get better very fast, and wished it was true of 
men. 

It will be remembered that on “That Thurs- 
day” morning Josephus was left in Mr. Holt’s 
barn. It will also be equally well remembered 
that Mr. Armour went from Mount Hope di- 
rectly to his lodgings. It is a fair inference that 
after supper he took a stroll in the direction of 
Ridge Street; for how else could he and Mr. 
Long have ridden behind Josephus when they 
came to dinner? They went away some time 
after it was over, in the same manner. 

Quite early on Saturday morning James 
Mears saw Josephus hitched to a top buggy, and 
standing by the post before Mr. Holt’s barn ; 
but he did not see what Edward saw, which 
was something in a bag in the hind part of the 
buggy. Neither did Edward see some other 


A Day and Another Day After. 279 

tilings ; for after lie had started down the street 
011 an errand, his sister Sarah came out of the 
house in her newest bonnet and her sweetest 
smile, and got into the buggy, followed by Mr. 
Armour. And, then, away went Josephus to- 
ward the great city, which boasts of the before- 
mentioned Natural History Rooms. What for? 
Well, who knows? But this is certain, whoever 
now enters these rooms may see in a large glass 
case, a very formidable looking creature with a 
stub-tail, open mouth, and glaring eyes ; and all 
who may desire information concerning the 
same, can see a card between its forepaws, on 
which — the card and not the paws — is very 
legibly written the following: “ L. rufus , Bay 
Lynx, or Bob-cat, shot May — tli, A. D. 188-, by 
H. A., in Rockton, M .” 

It will not do to give the real name of the 
city herein called Blankopolis, where this “finest 
specimen ” may be found. Were this done, 
some shrewd hunter of particulars would quite 
likely be off instanter to visit its justly cele- 
brated Natural History Rooms, and thus be 
able to fix the exact location of the hazel-eyed 
man who shot the lynx. Then there would be 
trouble ! His awful modesty, and more to be 
dreaded spunk, would be aroused. Then this 
veritable history would be suppressed before the 
first edition could be sold. Then the later his- 


280 


Rockton. 


tory of the J. Q.’s and their friends, the ro- 
mance of Annis Crab, the entertainment of 
Bernard, and the account of many surprising 
surprises, and amusing amusements could not 
be written. 











